ible, enslaving. I feel like a beaten cur. I am
tied hand and foot. Had I not been such a reckless idiot, why, your
misfortunes might have been my best chance. I dare say that sounds
shabby enough, but I like to let you see what I am, good and bad;
besides, I am ready to do _anything_, right or wrong, to win you."

"Ah, Mr. De Burgh, no crookedness ever succeeds. And then I do not
deserve that you should think so much or care so much for me, for I do
not wish to marry you or any one. My plan of life is framed on quite
different lines. Do put me out of your mind, and think of your own
fortunes. Do not vex Lord De Burgh; but oh! pray give up racing and
gambling. You know I really do like you, not exactly in the way you
wish, but it adds greatly to my troubles (for I am very sorry to lose my
fortune, I assure you) to see you so--so disturbed."

"If you look at me so kindly with those sweet wet eyes I shall lose my
head," cried De Burgh, who was already beside himself, for the gulf
which had suddenly yawned between him and the woman he coveted seemed to
grow wider as he looked at it. "I am the most unlucky devil in
existence, and I have brought _you_ ill luck. I should have kept away
from you, for you are a hundred thousand times too good for me; but as I
_have_ thrown myself headlong into the delicious pain of loving you,
won't you give me a chance? Promise to wait for me: a week, a day, may
see me wealthy, and I swear I will strive to be worthy too: why were
those bush-rangers such infernally bad-shots?--and I can be no use to
you whatever?"

"But I have many kind friends, Mr. De Burgh. You must not distress
yourself about me. I am not frightened, I assure you. Now I have told
you everything, don't you think you would better go?" She rose as she
spoke, and held out her hand.

"Better for you, yes, but not for me. Look here, Katherine, don't banish
me. I am obliged to go with old De Burgh to Paris. He is making for
Cannes again, and asked me to come so far. Of course he has a chain
round my neck. I must obey orders like his bond-slave, but when I come
back--don't banish me. I swear I'll be an unobtrusive friend, and I may
be of use. Don't send me quite away; in short, I won't take a dismissal.
What is it you object to? What absurd stories have been told you to set
you against me? Other women have liked me well enough."

"I have no doubt you deserve to be loved, Mr. De Burgh, but there are
feelings that, like the wind,