That afternoon Marjorie began her difficult task of getting disengaged
from Mr. Magnet. It was difficult because she was pledged not to tell
him of the one thing that made this line of action not only explicable,
but necessary. Magnet, perplexed, and disconcerted, and secretly
sustained by her mother's glancing sidelights on the feminine character
and the instability of "girlish whims," remained at Buryhamstreet until
the family returned to Hartstone Square. The engagement was
ended--formally--but in such a manner that Magnet was left a rather
pathetic and invincibly assiduous besieger. He lavished little presents
upon both sisters, he devised little treats for the entire family, he
enriched Theodore beyond the dreams of avarice, and he discussed his
love and admiration for Marjorie, and the perplexities and delicacies of
the situation not only with Mrs. Pope, but with Daphne. At first he had
thought very little of Daphne, but now he was beginning to experience
the subtle pleasures of a confidential friendship. She understood, he
felt; it was quite wonderful how she understood. He found Daffy much
richer in response than Marjorie, and far less disconcerting in
reply....
Mr. Pope, for all Marjorie's submission to his wishes, developed a Grand
Dudgeon of exceptionally fine proportions when he heard of the breach of
the engagement. He ceased to speak to his daughter or admit himself
aware of her existence, and the Grand Dudgeon's blighting shadow threw a
chill over the life of every one in the house. He made it clear that the
Grand Dudgeon would only be lifted by Marjorie's re-engagement to
Magnet, and that whatever blight or inconvenience fell on the others was
due entirely to Marjorie's wicked obstinacy. Using Mrs. Pope as an
intermediary, he also conveyed to Marjorie his decision to be no longer
burthened with the charges of her education at Oxbridge, and he made it
seem extremely doubtful whether he should remember her approaching
twenty-first birthday.
Marjorie received the news of her severance from Oxbridge, Mrs. Pope
thought, with a certain hardness.
"I thought he would do that," said Marjorie. "He's always wanted to do
that," and said no more.