Beryl, with the instinctive jealousy of a girl in love,
was conscious of a sudden annoyance that Miss Bremerton should have
been mixed up in Aubrey's personal affairs.
'What _do_ you mean?'
Aubrey put an arm round her shoulder. She knew she ought to shake it
off, but the pressure of it was too welcome. They strolled on.
'I had my talk with father last night. I told him he was absurd, and
I was my own master. That you were perfectly free to give me
up--that I had begged you to consider it--but I didn't think you
would,' he smiled down upon her, but more gravely; 'and failing
dismissal from you, we should be married as soon as it was
reasonably possible. Was that right, darling?'
She evaded the question.
'Well--and then?'
'Then he broke out. Sir Henry of course was the _bete noire_. You
can imagine the kind of things he said, I needn't repeat them. He is
in a mood of perfectly mad opposition to all this war legislation,
and it is not the least good arguing with him. Finally he told me
that my allowance would be stopped, and Mannering would be left to
Desmond, if we married.
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