‘You think it will—–­’

Mrs. Rossall raised her eyebrows a little, and kept her air of pained musing.

‘Well, what is to be done?’ resumed her brother, always impatient of mere negatives.  ’He has delivered a sort of ultimatum.  In the event of this proposal—­as to Miss Hood’s return—­being rejected, he marries at once.’

‘And then goes back to Balliol?’

‘No, simply abandons his career.’

Mrs. Rossall smiled.  It was not in woman’s nature to be uninterested by decision such as this.

‘Do you despair of influencing him?’ she asked.

’Entirely.  He will not hear of her taking another place in the interval, and it seems there are difficulties in the way of her remaining at home.  Of course I see very well the objections on the surface to her coming back—­’

’The objections are not on the surface at all, they are fundamental.  You are probably not in a position to see the ease as I do.  Such a state of things would be ludicrous; we should all be playing parts in a farce.  He cannot have made such a proposal to her; she would have shown him at once its absurdity.’

‘But the fact of the matter is that she acceded to it,’ said Mr. Athel, with a certain triumph over female infallibility.

‘Then I think worse of her than I did, that’s all.’

‘I’m not at all sure that you are right in that,’ observed her brother, with an impartial air.  ’Pray tell me your serious opinion of Miss Hood.  One begins, naturally, with a suspicion that she has not been altogether passive in this affair.  What Wilf says is, of course, nothing to the point; he protests that her attitude has been irreproachable.’

‘Especially in making assignations for six o’clock in the morning.’

‘Well, well, that is merely granting the issue; you are a trifle’ illogical, Edith.’

’No doubt I am.  You, on the other hand, seem to be very much of Wilf’s opinion.  I am sorry that I can’t do as you wish,’

’Well, we shall not gain anything by giving way to irritation.  He must be told how matters stand, and judge for himself.’

As Mr. Athel was speaking, Wilfrid entered the room.  Impatience had overcome him.  He knew of course that a discussion was in progress between his father and his aunt, and calm waiting upon other people’s decisions was not in his nature.  He came forward and seated himself.

‘I gather from your look, aunt,’ he began, when the others did not seem disposed to break silence, ’that you take my father’s view of what he has been telling you.’

‘I am not sure what your father’s view is,’ was Mrs. Rossall’s reply, given very coldly.  ’But I certainly think you have proposed what is impossible.’

‘Yes, you are right,’ rejoined Wilfrid, to the surprise of both.  ’The plan was not well considered.  Pray think no more of it.’

‘What do you substitute?’ his father inquired, after another long silence.