The only person in the family who did not thoroughly approve of Gladys's decision was her mother. Mrs. Brill thought it sheer madness to decline proposals of a 'gentleman from the West End,' as she called him; so clever and so rich, so handsome and so much in love. She was romantic and yet worldly in her views, and was much excited at the idea of the rivalry for her daughter. There were bitter scenes between Mr. and Mrs. Brill on the subject. Mr. Brill was not romantic nor worldly, but he was very sentimental, and he didn't hold with breaking his word to the Green Man, nor indeed with that mixing up of Stations to which he had already alluded.

Between the opposing views of her parents Gladys became somewhat bewildered. She liked the son of the Green Man (he was in reality only a green boy, but good-looking, and she had always known him), and she wished to be loyal to him. Yet her mother's remarks about Mr. Vaughan began to appeal to her imagination, such as it was. She was rather dazzled and began to weaken. She was at the age when one can really be in love with anybody, and she was flattered. Though she felt she would feel more at home with her childhood's friend, she began, very slightly, to look down upon him when she compared him with Gillie.

Vaughan came down the day after he had received her letter, and behaved precisely as usual.

Mr. Brill, meeting him with a rather shamefaced air in the garden, said straightforwardly—

"Very pleased indeed to see you, Mr. Vaughan. You got my letter, sir?"

"Yes, indeed. To my sorrow. I want to talk to you about it."

"Well, I was sorry to write it, sir, if you take my meaning. But there! Well, Mrs. Brill 'as expressed a wish for a few words with you, if you wouldn't mind."

"I shall be delighted, of course. But—may I see Gladys?"

"Why, yes, sir. Tea and bread and butter? The usual thing?"

"Yes, please. As usual." Mr. Brill lingered.

"Ave some watercress with it, sir," he added sympathetically, "or we've got some very nice little radishes. Ow about them?"Vaughan nearly laughed.

"No, thank you! I'm afraid they wouldn't be any use to me, Mr. Brill."

"Ha, ha! You will have your joke!"

Mr. Brill went in and told his wife that Mr. Vaughan was "sitting there looking that miserable it was enough to make one's heart ache."

With this satisfactory intelligence he sent Gladys into the garden.

She was all blushes and shyness. Her hair had gone back into the long plait, and she wore her schoolgirl dress again.

"You're too proud, Gladys!" he said reproachfully. "Why did you never tell me of your engagement?"

"Why, I didn't ardly count it to interest you, Mr. Vaughan. Besides, it's not to be for two years."

"Are you in love with him?"

"Why, what a question! I like him. He's a nice boy."

"I suppose he's very much in love with you?"

"Oh, he's all right."

"That was a very cruel letter you wrote me, Gladys."

"I was afraid you'd think it rude," she answered apologetically.

"No, dear. It isn't rude to refuse a proposal. You can't accept them all, can you?""You've made a wretched tea, Mr. Vaughan. Is there anything else you'd like?"

"Yes, I want to go in the field again, like the day before yesterday."

"Was it only the day before yesterday? So it was. A lot seems to ave appened since. Well, come along."

She looked such an absolute child as she climbed the gate that Gillie felt almost ashamed of his proposal, and thought that probably her father was quite right.... But her face was so exactly like Sir Joshua Reynolds' angels' heads, she might have sat for them. She was too absurdly pretty. And sweet, too, he thought. She had no vulgar pretensions, she was simple. She only wanted a little polish. He could teach her everything necessary. No task could have been more congenial....

"So you think I'm too old for you. Is that it?"

"No, it isn't. It isn't that. It's what father told you."

"Would you hate to go for a long journey with me, to see other places, other countries?"

"Oh no; I'd like it. We went to Clacton last summer. It was fun."

He thought a little.

"Gladys, as you're so young, won't you leave the whole thing in abeyance for a time?"

"In what, did you say?""Undecided. Let me come and talk to you about it in six months. The only thing I can't bear you to do is to be a manicure. I'm going to speak to your mother about it. I can't stand it."

"Oh, why, Mr. Vaughan? I should have thought it was nice for me to sort of better myself."

"Nonsense. Far better stay here. Well, will you agree to that?"

"To give up the manicuring and to leave the engagement open like? Is that what you mean?"

"That's the idea."

She thought a minute.

"I really don't see how I can. And—my boy would feel it something cruel if I put him off like that."

"When do you see him?" he asked jealously.

"Why, on Sundays. Only on Sundays."

"Ah, that's why I've never seen him. I wondered why I'd never met my hated rival."

She laughed.

"Oh, now, you're going on silly, like the people in the play!... I don't believe you alf mean it."

"Don't you believe I love you?"

"How can you? You don't ardly know me, except as a friend."

"I'll tell you why I love you if you like, dearest.""Well, why?" She spoke with girlish curiosity.

"Because you're lovely, and lovable, and sweet. Because you're a darling."

"Oh, I say!"

"Doesn't your boy, as you call him, say these things to you?"

"Not like that. I only see him on Sundays."

"And does he kiss you on Sundays?"

"Oh yes."

Vaughan got up.

"All right, I won't worry you any more.... I'll let you be happy in your own way, dear.... I must go now."

"Oh, must you?"

She seemed very disappointed.

"Yes, I'm going to France."

"What, to-day?"

"No, next week."

"Oh, I am sorry."

"Good-bye, dear."

He went in and bid adieu to Mr. and Mrs. Brill and the "Bald-faced Stag" for ever. He said to her father that he was resigned.

As soon as he had gone, Gladys went upstairs to her room, looked in the glass, then burst out crying.

She had fallen in love with Gillie.