Other ghostly wills seemed to be threatening her--wills that meant nothing to her.

No!--her own will should shape her own life! As against the austere appeal that comes from the inner heart of Oxford, the young and restless blood in her sang defiance.

"I will ride with him to-morrow--I will--I will!" But the Master merely thought that she was feeling the perennial spell of the Oxford beauty.
"You are going to like Oxford, I hope ?" "Yes--" said Constance, a little reluctantly.

"Oh, of course I shall like it.

But it oppresses me--rather." "I know!" he said eagerly--always trying to place himself in contact with the young mind and life, always seeking something from them in which he was constantly disappointed.