ely invented a threat! Surely if the fact
were such, he would, even in rage diabolic, have kept it to himself!

Impetuous, and accustomed to what he counted success, he soon began to
make plainer advance toward the end on which his self-love and cupidity
at least were set. But, knowing in a vague manner how he had carried
himself before he went, Arctura, uninfluenced by the ways of the world,
her judgment unwarped, her perception undimmed, her instincts nice, her
personal delicacy exacting, had never imagined he could approach her on
any ground but that of cousinship and a childhood of shared sports. She
had seen that Donal was far from pleased with him, and believed Forgue
knew that she knew he had been behaving badly. Her behaviour to him was
indeed largely based on the fact that he was in disgrace: she was sorry
for him.

By and by, however, she perceived that she had been allowing too much
freedom where she was not prepared to allow more, and so one day
declined to go with him. They had not had a ride for a fortnight, the
weather having been unfavourable; and now when a morning broke into the
season like a smile from an estranged friend, she would not go! He was
annoyed--then alarmed, fearing adverse influence. They were alone in
the breakfast-room.

"Why will you not, Arctura?" he asked reproachfully: "do you not feel
well?"

"I am quite well," she answered.

"It is such a lovely day!" he pleaded.

"I am not in the mood. There are other things in the world besides
riding, and I have been wasting my time--riding too much. I have learnt
next to nothing since Larkie came."

"Oh, bother! what have you to do with learning! Health is the first
thing."

"I don't think so--and learning is good for the health. Besides, I
would not be a mere animal for perfect health!"

"Let me help you then with your studies."

"Thank you," she answered, laughing a little, "but I have a good master
already! We, that is Davie and I, are reading Greek and mathematics
with Mr. Grant."

Forgue's face flushed.

"I ought to know as much of both as he does!" he said.

"Ought perhaps! But you know you do not."

"I know enough to be your tutor."

"Yes, but I know enough not to be your pupil!"

"What do you mean?"

"That you can't teach."

"How do you know that?"

"Because you do not love either Greek or mathematics, and no one who
does not love can teach." "That is nonsense! If I don't love Greek
enough to teach it, I love