"What does your father say ?" he asked slowly, after a pause in which he had followed every expression that crossed her face.
"Nothing--and it wouldn't alter the case if he did.

I am the best judge of what is good for me." There was a certain finality in her cadences that repelled all further discussion.

He remembered having heard the same ring before.
"When did all this happen ?--this telling him not to come ?" he persisted, determined to widen the inquiry.

His mind was still unable to fully grasp the situation.
"About five weeks ago.

Do you want to know the very night ?" She turned her head as she spoke and looked at him with her full, deep eyes.
"Yes, if you wish me to." "The night Mr.Horn read 'The Cricket on the Hearth,'" she answered in a tone of relief--as if some great crisis had marked the hour, the passing of which had brought her infinite peace.