At the other side of the wall I heard Mrs. Fanning's heavy steps as she walked about. She did not seem to be at all depressed at my refusal of her son Albert. On the contrary, she was in very good spirits. She had been in excellent spirits all the way back, and had kept on assuring me that I was only going on the usual tack of the modest maiden, the maiden who was worthy of such a man as her godly son Albert. Had not she herself hated Albert's father for a whole fortnight after his proposal, and had she not been glad, very glad, in the end to creep into his great heart for shelter? Did she suppose that I also would be glad to creep into Albert the second's great heart for shelter? Oh, it was all unbearable. But, nevertheless, there was a spirit of defiance in me. I had tried my ugly dresses in vain, I had tried being grave and distant in vain. I had tried everything, but nothing had availed; Mr. Fanning was determined to have me for his wife. I wondered if the man cared for me, perhaps he did after his fashion, but as no self-denials on my part had the effect of repulsing him, I would give way to my fancy and dress properly for dinner. I put on a very pretty pink dress which I had not yet worn, and ran downstairs.