nd pressed her handkerchief to her face. Hugo stood and
watched her earnestly, and she, on looking up, found his eyes fixed upon
her. The gaze brought back all her ire. "Order the carriage for me at
once, and let me go out of your sight," she said. "I cannot bear to look
at you!"

Kitty was not dignified in her wrath, but she was so pretty that Hugo's
lips curled with a smile of enjoyment. At the same time he felt that he
must bring her to a sense of her position. She had not as yet the least
notion of what he meant to require of her. And it would be better that
she should understand. He folded his arms and leant against the door as
he spoke.

"You are not going away just yet," he said. "I have got my pretty bird
caged at last, and she may beat her wings against the bars as much as
she pleases, but she will not leave her cage until she is a little tamer
than she is now. When she can sing to the tune I will teach her, I will
let her go."

"What do you mean?" said Kitty. "Stand away from the door, Mr. Luttrell.
I want to pass."

"I will stand aside presently and let you go--as far as the doors will
let you. But just now you must listen to me."

"I will not listen. I will call the servants," she said, pulling a
bell-handle which she had found beside the mantelpiece.

"Ring as much as you please. Nobody will come. The bell-wire has been
cut."

"Then I will call. Somebody must hear."

"My man, Stevens, may hear, perhaps. But he will not come unless I
summon him."

"But the other servants----"

"There are no other servants in this part of the house. The kitchen-maid
and the nurse sleep close to Mrs. Luttrell's room--so far away that not
your loudest scream would reach their ears. You are in my power, Kitty.
I could kill you if I liked, and nobody could interfere."

What strange light was that within his eyes? Was it the light of madness
or of love? For the first time Kitty was seized with positive fear of
him. She listened, the colour dying out of her face, and her eyes slowly
dilating with terror as she heard what he had to say.

"I will tell you now what I have done," he said, "and then I will ask
you, once more, to forgive me. It is your own fault if I love you madly,
wildly, as I do. You led me on. You let me tell you that I loved you;
you seemed to care for me too, sometimes. By the time that you had made
up your mind, to throw me over, Kitty, my love had grown into a passion
that must be satisfied. There