you--I don't like a man who can do such things, and I never
could. And I can't let you talk to me in this way any more. If we must
meet, you must behave just as usual. If you can't, I shall persuade my
mother to go away at once."

"I shall follow you," said Brook. "I told you so the other day. You
can't possibly go to any place where I can't go too."

"Do you mean to persecute me, Mr. Johnstone?" she asked.

"I love you."

"I hate you!"

"Yes, but you won't always. Even if you do, I shall always love you just
as much."

Her eyes fell before his.

"Do you mean to say that you can really love a woman who hates you?" she
asked, looking at one of her hands as it rested on the wall.

"Of course. Why not? What has that to do with it?"

The question was asked so simply and with such honest surprise that
Clare looked up again. He was smiling a little sadly.

"But--I don't understand--" she hesitated.

"Do you think it's like a bargain?" he asked quietly. "Do you think it's
a matter of exchange--'I will love you if you'll love me'? Oh no! It's
not that. I can't help it. I'm not my own master. I've got to love you,
whether I like it or not. But since I do--well, I've said the rest, and
I won't repeat it. I've told you that I'm in earnest, and you haven't
believed me. I've told you that I love you, and you won't even believe
that--"

"No--I can believe that, well enough, now. You do to-day, perhaps. At
least you think you do."

"Well--you don't believe it, then. What's the use of repeating it? If I
could talk well, it would be different, but I'm not much of a talker,
at best, and just now I can't put two words together. But I--I mean lots
of things that I can't say, and perhaps wouldn't say, you know. At
least, not just now."

He turned from her and began to walk up and down across the narrow
terrace, towards her and away from her, his hands in his pockets, and
his head a little bent. She watched him in silence for some time.
Perhaps if she had hated him as much as she said that she did, she would
have left him then and gone into the house. Something, good or evil,
tempted her to speak.

"What do you mean, that you wouldn't say now?" she asked.

"I don't know," he answered gruffly, still walking up and down, ten
steps each way. "Don't ask me--I told you one thing. I shall follow you
wherever you go."

"And then?" asked Clare, still prompted by some genius, good or bad.

"And then?" Brook stopped and stared