heard of this
half-sister of yours already. Suppose we leave her out for the present?"

"Yes," he said, again stopping momentarily in his walk. "We _will_ leave
her out for the present. In fact, as far as you are concerned, Enid, she
may be left out for ever."

"Why--what do you mean, Vane?" she exclaimed, stopping short.

"I mean," he said, beginning quickly and then halting for a moment. "I
mean that, considering everything that has happened during the last few
days, I have no intention of asking you to become her half-sister--even
in law."

The real meaning of his utterance forced itself swiftly enough upon her
now, and for a minute rendered her incapable of speech. She, however,
like others of her blood and breed, had learned how to seem most
careless when she cared most, and so she managed to reply not only
steadily but even stiffly:

"Of course, after that there is very little to be said, Mr. Maxwell. I'm
afraid I have not properly understood what has happened. Perhaps,
though, it would have been better for you to have seen my father and
talked this over with him first."

The "Mr. Maxwell" cut him to the quick. It was the first time he had
ever heard it from her lips. Yet it did not affect the decision which
was, as he had for the time being, at least, convinced himself,
inevitable, and so miserable was he that even her scornful indignation
was something like a help to him.

He was even grateful that this interview, which he had looked forward to
with dread, had taken place in the open air rather than in the
drawing-room of Sir Godfrey Raleigh's house, for if she had simply sat
down and cried, as, perhaps, nine out of ten girls in her position would
have done, his task would have been infinitely more difficult, perhaps
even impossible of accomplishment. Her present attitude, however, seemed
to appeal to his masculine pride and stimulate it. He turned slightly
towards her, and said, with a sudden change in his voice which she felt
almost like a blow:

"Yes, Miss Raleigh, you are quite right. I will spare you the details;
at least, those which are not essential. But there are some which are.
For instance," he went on, with a note of vehemence in his tone which
made it impossible for her to interrupt him, "four nights ago I was
lying on the floor of the Den at home, blind, dead drunk--drunk, mind
you, after this sister of mine had seen in my eyes the sign of
drunkenness which she had seen in her mother's--t