taken by surprise. But
the next moment he was ready for her.

"Then by all means," he said, "let me take you to your friends in
London. Doubtless your chivalrous lover has found his way thither long
ere this."

She stamped like a little fury.

"Do you think I would marry him--now? Do you think I would marry any one
after--after what happened last night? Oh, I hate you--I hate you all!"

Her voice broke. She covered her face, with tempestuous sobbing, and
sank into a chair.

Caryl stood silent, biting his lip as if in irresolution. He did not try
to comfort her.

After a while, her weeping still continuing, he leant across the table.

"Doris," he said, "leave off crying and listen to me. I know it is out
of the question for you to marry that scoundrel whom I had the pleasure
of thrashing last night. It always has been out of the question. That
is one reason why I have been keeping such a hold upon you. Now that you
admit the impossibility of it, I set you free. But you will be wise to
think well before you accept your freedom from me. You are in an
intolerable position, and I am quite powerless to help you unless you
place yourself unreservedly in my hands and give me the right to protect
you. It means a good deal, I know. It means, Doris, the sacrifice of
your independence. But it also means a safe haven, peace, comfort, if
not happiness. You may not love me. I never seriously thought that you
did. But if you will give me your trust--I shall try to be satisfied
with that."

Love! She had never heard the word on his lips before. It sent a curious
thrill through her to hear it then. She had listened to him with her
face hidden, though her tears had ceased. But as he ended, she slowly
raised her head and looked at him.

"Are you asking me to marry you?" she said.

"I am," said Caryl.

She lowered her eyes from his, and began to trace a design on the
table-cloth with one finger.

"I don't want to marry you," she said at length.

"I know," said Caryl.

She did not look up.

"No, you don't know. That's just it. You think you know everything. But
you don't.

For instance, you think you know why I ran away with Major Brandon. But
you don't. You never will know--unless I tell you, probably not even
then."

She broke off with an abrupt sigh, and leant back in her chair.

"One thing I do thank you for," she said irrelevantly. "And that is that
you didn't take me back to Rivermead last night. Have they, I