ill not! Antony is perfectly ferocious on a question relating
to any woman's honor. I know that he loves my sister Rose to
distraction, and I know equally well that if he ever dares to ask her
to be his wife he will do so in the most straightforward, conventional
manner. Once when I complained of the strictness of society's rules
about women, he said, 'Considering the usual man, society could not
make rules too strict.' Antony will not help us by a syllable."

"Then speak to your mother again. Our marriage may be delayed; but our
engagement ought to be a recognized one."

"But privately. Cannot we understand each other privately? Look in my
eyes, darling, and see my promise there! Give me yours in a kiss."

"Harry, why do you ask me to deceive my father?"

"You love your father better than you love me, Yanna."

She did not answer this accusation in words, though he saw the answer
fly into her face; and he was so ashamed of his unreasonableness that
he went into the hall and put on his overcoat, and she stood silent,
watching him the while. In a few minutes he turned to her with his hat
in his hand. "Well, then, Yanna, I am to go away without a promise
from you? When may I come again?"

"When you love me with _all_ your heart--when you can put me before
every other human being. Please, Harry, say nothing of this event to
Rose. Why should we trouble her? And as I have promised to be at
Filmer to-morrow morning, it will be best, dear, if you can avoid
meeting me. I shall not remain more than an hour or two."

"Very well. I will keep myself out of your way."

"You know what I mean, Harry. Why do you make my meaning worse than it
is?"

"Good-bye, Yanna! I am too miserable to split hairs over a meaning."

He was really petted and humiliated, and even a lover in this mood
finds it hard to be just and kind. Without another word, he went to
the stable for his horse and buggy; and Yanna, watching at the window,
saw him drive furiously down the avenue, without giving her any
further recognition. For the young man--little accustomed to
disappointment of any kind, and still less to a want of personal
appreciation--had become angry at his failure. Though he had not
permitted himself consciously to make any account of his superior
social position, it had influenced his estimate of his probable
success; and yet he was forced to acknowledge that his wealth or
social position had never been taken into account at all. His
acce