" he demanded
softly, "you know and have known from the first, that I love you."

"Why then, 'tis an ugly thing, your love!"

"'Tis very real, Betty, I live but to win you and--win you I shall."

"You are vastly confident, sir."

"Truly," he smiled, "'tis so my nature. And I am determined to possess
you--soon or late, Betty."

"Even against my will?" she questioned.

"Aye, against your will!" he murmured.

"Even supposing that I--despised you?"

"'Twould but make you the more adorable, Betty."

"Even though you knew I--loved another man?"

"'Twould make you the more desirable, Betty."

At this she turned and looked at him and, under that look, Mr. Dalroyd
actually lowered his eyes; but his laugh was light enough none the less.

"Betty," he continued softly, "I would peril my immortal soul to
possess you and, despite all your haughty airs and graces--win you I
will----"

"Enough, sir!" she retorted, "Am I so weak of will, think you, to wed
where I so utterly--despise?" And, viewing him from head to foot with
her calm gaze, she laughed and turned from him as from one of no
account. For one breathless moment Mr. Dalroyd stood utterly still
then, stung beyond endurance, his modish languor swept away on a
torrent of furious anger, he came close beside her and stood striving
for speech; and she, leaning gracefully at the open casement, hummed
the lines of a song to herself very prettily, heeding him not at all.

"Madam!" said he, thickly, "By God, madam, none hath ever scorned me
with impunity--or ever shall! Hark'ee madam----"

My lady gazed pensive upon the sunny garden and went on humming.

"Ha, by heaven!" he exclaimed, "I swear you shall humble yourself
yet--you shall come to me, one o' these days soon and leave your pride
behind. D'ye hear madam, d'ye hear my will shall be your law yet----"

Now at this she turned and laughed full-throated and ever as she
laughed she mocked him:

"Indeed, sir, and indeed? Shall I run humbly to your call? Must I
creep to you on lowly knees----"

"Aye--by God, you shall!" he cried, his passion shaking him.

"And must I plead and beg and sue, must I weep and sigh and moan and
groan? And to you--you, of all trifling things? I wonder why?"

"For your brother's sake!" he answered between white teeth, stung at
last out of all restraint.

"My brother--my Charles? What can you know of him--you?"

"Enough to hang him!"

Once again her laughter rang out, a j