When the Rowleys were back in London, and began to employ themselves on the terrible work of making ready for their journey to the Islands, Lady Rowley gradually gave way about Hugh Stanbury. She had become aware that Nora would not go back with them unless under an amount of pressure which she would find it impossible to use. And if Nora did not go out to the Islands, what was to become of her unless she married this man? Sir Marmaduke, when all was explained to him, declared that a girl must do what her parents ordered her to do. ‘Other girls live with their fathers and mothers, and so must she.’ Lady Rowley endeavoured to explain that other girls lived with their fathers and mothers, because they found themselves in established homes from which they are not disposed to run away; but Nora’s position was, as she alleged, very different. Nora’s home had latterly been with her sister, and it was hardly to be expected that the parental authority should not find itself impaired by the interregnum which had taken place. Sir Marmaduke would not see the thing in the same light, and was disposed to treat his daughter with a high hand. If she would not do as she was bidden, she should no longer be daughter of his. In answer to this Lady Rowley could only repeat her conviction that Nora would not go out to the Mandarins; and that as for disinheriting her, casting her out, cursing her, and the rest, she had no belief in such doings at all. ‘On the stage they do such things as that’ she said; ‘and, perhaps, they used to do it once in reality. But you know that it’s out of the question now. Fancy your standing up and cursing at the dear girl, just as we are all starting from Southampton!’ Sir Marmaduke knew as well as his wife that it would be impossible, and only muttered something about the ‘dear girl’ behaving herself with great impropriety.

They were all aware that Nora was not going to leave England, because no berth had been taken for her on board the ship, and because, while the other girls were preparing for their long voyage, no preparations were made for her. Of course she was not going. Sir Marmaduke would probably have given way altogether immediately on his return to London, had he not discussed the matter with his friend Colonel Osborne. It became, of course, his duty to make some inquiry as to the Stanbury family, and he knew that Osborne had visited Mrs Stanbury when he made his unfortunate pilgrimage to the porch of Cockchaffington Church. He told Osborne the whole story of Nora’s engagement, telling also that other most heart-breaking tale of her conduct in regard to Mr Glascock, and asked the Colonel what he thought about the Stanburys. Now the Colonel did not hold the Stanburys in high esteem. He had met Hugh, as the reader may perhaps remember, and had had some intercourse with the young man, which had not been quite agreeable to him, on the platform of the railway station at Exeter. And he had also heard something of the ladies at Nuncombe Putney during his short sojourn at the house of Mrs Crocket. ‘My belief is, they are beggars,’ said Colonel Osborne.

‘I suppose so,’ said Sir Marmaduke, shaking his head.

‘When I went over to call on Emily that time I was at Cockchaffington, you know, when Trevelyan made himself such a d fool, I found the mother and sister living in a decentish house enough; but it wasn’t their house.’

‘Not their own, you mean?’

‘It was a place that Trevelyan had got this young man to take for Emily, and they had merely gone there to be with her. They had been living in a little bit of a cottage; a sort of place that any any ploughman would live in. Just that kind of cottage.’

‘Goodness gracious!’

‘And they’ve gone to another just like it so I’m told.’

‘And can’t he do anything better for them than that?’ asked Sir Marmaduke.

‘I know nothing about him. I have met him, you know. He used to be with Trevelyan; that was when Nora took a fancy for him, of course. And I saw him once down in Devonshire, when I must say he behaved uncommonly badly, doing all he could to foster Trevelyan’s stupid jealousy.’

‘He has changed his mind about that, I think.’

‘Perhaps he has; but he behaved very badly then. Let him shew up his income; that, I take it, is the question in such a case as this. His father was a clergyman, and therefore I suppose he must be considered to he a gentleman. But has he means to support a wife, and keep up a house in London? If he has not, that is an end to it, I should say.’

But Sir Marmaduke could not see his way to any such end, and, although he still looked black upon Nora, and talked to his wife of his determination to stand no contumacy, and hinted at cursing, disinheriting, and the like, he began to perceive that Nora would have her own way. In his unhappiness he regretted this visit to England, and almost thought that the Mandarins were a pleasanter residence than London. He could do pretty much as he pleased there, and could live quietly, without the trouble which encountered him now on every side.

Nora, immediately on her return to London, had written a note to Hugh, simply telling him of her arrival and begging him to come and see her. ‘Mamma,’ she said, ‘I must see him, and it would be nonsense to say that he must not come here. I have done what I have said I would do, and you ought not to make difficulties.’ Lady Rowley declared that Sir Marmaduke would be very angry if Hugh were admitted without his express permission. ‘I don’t want to do anything in the dark,’ continued Nora, ‘but of course I must see him. I suppose it will be better that he should come to me than that I should go to him?’ Lady Rowley quite understood the threat that was conveyed in this. It would be much better that Hugh should come to the hotel, and that he should be treated then as an accepted lover. She had come to that conclusion. But she was obliged to vacillate for awhile between her husband and her daughter. Hugh came of course, and Sir Marmaduke, by his wife’s advice, kept out of the way. Lady Rowley, though she was at home, kept herself also out of the way, remaining above with her two other daughters. Nora thus achieved the glory and happiness of receiving her lover alone.

‘My own true girl!’ he said, speaking with his arms still round her waist.

‘I am true enough; but whether I am your own, that is another question.’

‘You mean to be?’

‘But papa doesn’t mean it. Papa says that you are nobody, and that you haven’t got an income; and thinks that I had better go back and be an old maid at the Mandarins.’

‘And what do you think yourself, Nora?’

‘What do I think? As far as I can understand, young ladies are not allowed to think at all. They have to do what their papas tell them. That will do, Hugh. You can talk without taking hold of me.’

‘It is such a time since I have had a hold of you as you call it.’

‘It will be much longer before you can do so again, if I go back to the Islands with papa. I shall expect you to be true, you know; and it will be ten years at the least before I can hope to be home again.’

‘I don’t think you mean to go, Nora.’

‘But what am I to do? That idea of yours of walking out to the next church and getting ourselves married sounds very nice and independent, but you know that it is not practicable.’

‘On the other hand, I know it is.’

‘It is not practicable for me, Hugh. Of all things in the world I don’t want to be a Lydia. I won’t do anything that anybody shall ever say that your wife ought not to have done. Young women when they are married ought to have their papas’ and mammas’ consent. I have been thinking about it a great deal for the last month or two, and I have made up my mind to that.’

‘What is it all to come to, then?’

‘I mean to get papa’s consent. That is what it is to come to.’

‘And if he is obstinate?’

‘I shall coax him round at last. When the time for going comes, he’ll yield then.’

‘But you will not go with them?’ As he asked this he came to her and tried again to take her by the waist; but she retreated from him, and got herself clear from us arm. ‘If you are afraid of me, I shall know that you think it possible that we may be parted.’

‘I am not a bit afraid of you, Hugh.’

‘Nora, I think you ought to tell me something definitely.’

‘I think I have been definite enough, sir. You may be sure of this, however I will not go back to the Islands.’

‘Give me your hand on that.’

‘There is my hand. But, remember, I had told you just as much before. I don’t mean to go back. I mean to stay here. I mean — but I do not think I will tell you all the things I mean to do.’

‘You mean to be my wife?’

‘Certainly, some day, when the difficulty about the chairs and tables can settle itself. The real question now i............