But in answer to her enquiries about the boy, the Squire had vouchsafed only a few irritable words, 'Well--he's not killed yet! The devil's business over there seems to be working up to a greater hell than ever!' Nothing more.
Well, she would see to that! Mannering should feel the war, if she were to live in it.

She straightened her shoulders, her will stiffening to its task.
Yes, and while that dear boy was out there, in that grim fighting line, no action of hers, if she could help it, should cause him a moment's anger or trouble.

Her resolution was taken.

If the Squire did mean to ask her to marry him she would try and stop him in mid-career.

If she couldn't stop him, well, then, she would give him his choice--either to keep her, as secretary and friend, and hold his peace, or to lose her.