ssip, _and_ the
appointment you made in the churchyard, that I unwillingly overheard,
not the gossip alone which led me into my mistake. Of course I have now
to apologise."

Again Beatrice stamped her foot. She saw that he was still mocking her,
and felt that he did not believe her.

"There," he went on, stung into unkindness by his biting but
unacknowledged jealousy, for she was right--on reflection he did
not quite believe what she said as to her not being engaged. "How
unfortunate I am--I have said something to make you angry again. Why did
you not walk with Mr. Davies? I should then have remained guiltless of
offence, and you would have had a more agreeable companion. You want to
quarrel with me; what shall we quarrel about? There are many things on
which we are diametrically opposed; let us start one."

It was too much, for though his words were nothing the tone in which
he spoke gave them a sting. Beatrice, already disturbed in mind by the
scene through which she had passed, her breast already throbbing with
a vague trouble of which she did not know the meaning, for once in her
life lost control of herself and grew hysterical. Her grey eyes filled
with tears, the corners of her sweet mouth dropped, and she looked very
much as though she were going to burst out weeping.

"It is most unkind of you," she said, with a half sob. "If you knew how
much I have to put up with, you would not speak to me like that. I know
that you do not believe me; very well, I will tell you the truth. Yes,
though I have no business to do it, and you have no right--none at
all--to make me do it, I will tell you the truth, because I cannot bear
that you should not believe me. Mr. Davies did want me to marry him and
I refused him. I put him off for a while; I did this because I knew that
if I did not he would go to my father. It was cowardly, but my father
would make my life wretched----" and again she gave a half-choked sob.

Much has been said and written about the effect produced upon men by
the sight of a lady in, or on the border line of tears, and there is no
doubt that this effect is considerable. Man being in his right mind
is deeply moved by such a spectacle, also he is frightened because he
dreads a scene. Now most people would rather walk ten miles in their
dress shoes than have to deal with a young lady in hysterics, however
modified. Putting the peculiar circumstances of the case aside, Geoffrey
was no exception to this rule