"Nothing," faltered Olivia, who had turned very pale. "I don't know what to say."

"Will you give the man up."

"I won't see him, if that will please you."

"No. It doesn't please me. You must give him up, and engage yourself to Mr. Walker or to Mr. Burgh."

"I cannot--I cannot--" said poor Olivia.

Miss Wharf stamped her foot and bit her lip. "You are as obstinate as your mother was before you," she said savagely. "I shall give you one month to make up your mind, and that is very generous of me. If you surrender Rupert and choose one of the other two, I will not foreclose the mortgage and will leave you five hundred a year."

"When can you foreclose?" asked Olivia anxiously.

"By the end of the year. So it rests with you, if Rupert Ainsleigh leaves his home in six months or keeps it. Now you can go."

Olivia Rayner was not a girl who would stand dictation. But for some reason or another she meekly bowed her head and went out, leaving Miss Wharf to calm down over her needle-work.

The girl went to her own room, and lay down to think over the situation.

What she thought or what plan she conceived, it is difficult to say; but she came down to dinner quite composed. Her aunt looked at her sharply, and Miss Pewsey with suspicion, but neither of them made any remark bearing on the storm. On the contrary Miss Wharf chatted about the ball and talked of her dress and even advised Olivia about her costume. "You will look very well in white," said Miss Wharf.

"But not so lovely as my Sophia in pale blue," said Miss Pewsey with her usual emphasis. "I know you will be the belle of the ball darling Sophia."

"I have been the belle of several b.a.l.l.s in my time," said Miss Wharf good-humouredly.

"And will be still," purred Miss Pewsey like the cat she was, "my dear nephew said you were a rattling fine woman."

"It sounds like one of Mr. Burgh's speeches," said Olivia with great contempt. She knew that the buccaneer loved her, and therefore disliked him the more.

"Oh Olivia how can you," cried the little old maid, throwing up her hands, "when poor, dear, darling, Clarence worships the ground you walk on. He's got money too, and wants a wife!"

"Let him marry Lotty Dean then."

"That retired grocer's daughter," cried Miss Pewsey, drawing herself up, "no indeed. I may be poor, but I am of gentle blood Olivia. The Pewsey's have been in Ess.e.x for generations. My papa was rich and could afford to send me to a fashionable school when I met my own Sophia. But poor sweet papa lost his money and then--oh, dear me." Miss Pewsey squeezed out a tear. "What sad times I have had."

"You're all right now, Lavinia," said Miss Wharf stolidly, eating fruit and sipping port wine.

"Yes dearest Sophia, thanks to your large and generous heart. I have no one in the world but you and Clarence. He is the son of my only sister, and has travelled--"

"In China," said Olivia.

Miss Pewsey narrowed her eyes and looked as though about to scratch.

"In China, of course. But why do you make that remark, Olivia?"

The girl shrugged her shoulders. "I observed that Mr. Burgh has not very pleasant recollections of China," she said deliberately, "he was not pleased to find that Mr. Walker could talk the language, and he was uncomfortable when the name Tung-yu was mentioned."

Miss Pewsey bit her lip. "Do you know anything of Tung-yu?"

"No. Why should I. All I know, is that Chris Walker says he will bring the man down here for the ball."

The little old maid looked hard at the girl, but Olivia bore her scrutiny composedly. She wondered why Miss Pewsey stared so hard, and laid such emphasis on the Chinese name, but the matter slipped from her mind when she retired to her room. She would have wondered still more had she known that Miss Pewsey came up the stairs and listened at the door of the bed-room.

Olivia had arranged to meet Rupert near the band-stand, as their meetings were secret because of Miss Wharf's dislike. Certainly the young man had come to the house, and Miss Wharf had received him with cold dignity: but when he showed a marked preference for Olivia's company, she gave him to understand that she did not approve. Henceforth Rupert stopped away from Ivy Lodge, and met Olivia at intervals near the band-stand. So Olivia, putting on a dark dress and a veil, slipped out of the house, and took her way along the brilliantly lighted front. She had often gone before and always had left her aunt and Miss Pewsey sitting in the drawing-room, Miss Wharf working and the companion reading the newspaper. Miss Wharf never by any chance looked at a newspaper herself, but left it to Miss Pewsey to cull the choice news for her delectation.

So Olivia, feeling quite safe, stepped lightly along to where the crowd gathered round the stand. It was a perfect night and very warm, therefore many people were seated in the chairs and strolling across the gra.s.s. Olivia went to a certain corner, and, as she expected, found her lover. He was not in evening-dress, but for the sake of the meeting had a.s.sumed a dark serge suit. As she advanced, he recognised her and came forward taking off his hat. Then he gave her his arm and the two strolled to the far end of the green where they sat down under the fence which was round the flag-staff. There, removed from everyone, they could talk in moderately loud tones.

"My darling," said Rupert, possessing himself of Olivia's hand. "I thought you would not come. You were late."

"I could not get away before. Miss Pewsey watches me like a cat does a mouse, and with the same disposition to pounce, I expect."

"She's a detestable woman," said Rupert angrily, "why can't she leave you alone?"

"I don't know. Rupert, she wants me to marry her nephew."

"What, that bounder who rides so furiously," cried Rupert fiercely, "you don't mean to say that he dares----"

"Not in words, but he looks--oh," Olivia shivered, "you know the sort of look a man like that, gives you."

"I'll twist his neck if he insults you."

"Then Miss Pewsey would complain to my aunt and I should get into trouble. Oh, Rupert," she said softly, "I am so afraid."

"Of that man. Nonsense."

"No--of everything. I can keep Mr. Burgh off--"

"Who is he?" asked Rupert jealously.

"Miss Pewsey's nephew. I can manage him, bold as he is. But it is you I am afraid of. Listen," and Olivia told the young man what she had learned from Miss Wharf that afternoon. "She can ruin you," said the poor girl, almost crying, "and she will if she learns the truth."

Rupert pressed the hand he held. "Why not tell her the truth," he said.

"I'm willing to face poverty if you are."

"Rupert, are you mad? If Aunt Sophia learned that we were married--hark, what was that?" and Olivia rose, and nervously peered into the shadows, "I thought I heard a noise."

"It's nothing. Only some rats in the long gra.s.s within the fence. No one's about. They're all over at the band. But about our marriage, Olivia. Miss Wharf must learn sooner or later."

"Yes. But you know I asked you to keep it quiet that I might not have trouble with her. It was selfish of me, for it would have been braver of me to have faced her anger and then have told all the world that we were married at that Registry Office. But I'm glad now I didn't. She would have ruined you."

"She can't do anything till the end of the year."

"But why didn't you tell me she held this mortgage?"

"Well, I thought that before the end of the year I might manage to pay it and the other mortgages off. Then we could announce that we were married, and live at Royabay on what small income I have."

"I don't mind about the income," said Mrs. Ainsleigh, for that Olivia secretly was. "I'd live on a shilling a day with you, darling. But aunt threatens if I marry you to cut me out of her will. She would do so at once if she knew the truth, and leave the money to Miss Pewsey."

"Let her. I daresay that old maid has schemed for it. She's a wicked old woman that and worthy of her bounder of a nephew. Never mind about the money or the mortgage. Let us announce the marriage. I don't like the position you occupy. It is not fit that my wife should be exposed to the attentions of a cad like this Burgh."