I must know the reason why before--before----" A quiver of agitation sounded in her voice and she stopped.
"If you've made up your mind to marry Preston, I don't see why you want to do that," said the squire curtly.
"I am going to do it," she answered steadily.

"I only wish I had done it sooner." Ingleton burrowed into his paper.

"All right," he growled.
Sylvia stood for a few seconds longer, but he did not look up at her, and at length, with a sharp sigh, she turned and left him.
She did not return to her step-mother, however.

She went to her room to write her message.
A little later she passed down the garden on her way to the village.

A great restlessness was upon her, and she thought the walk to the post-office would do her good.
She came upon Jeffcott in one of the shrubberies, and he stopped her with the freedom of an old servant.
"Beggin' your pardon, missie, but you'll let me wish you joy ?" he said.