oaned, as if she were in pain;
and again momentarily Baring glanced at her. But his face showed no
softening.

"I mean what I say," he said, turning inexorably to Ronnie. "I told you
long ago that that man was not fit to associate with your sister. You
must have known it for yourself; yet you continued to bring him to the
house. What I have just done was in her defence. Mark that, for--as you
know--I am not in the habit of acting hastily. But there are some
offences that only a horsewhip can punish." He set the boy free with a
contemptuous gesture, and crossed the room to Hope. "Now I have
something to say to you," he said.

She started and quivered, but she did not raise her head. Very quietly
he stooped and lifted her up. He saw that she was too upset for the
moment to control herself, and he put her into a chair and waited beside
her. After several seconds she slipped a trembling hand into his, and
spoke.

"Monty," she said, "I have something to say to you first."

Her action surprised him. It touched him also, but he did not show it.

"I am listening," he said gravely.

She looked up at him and uttered a sharp sigh. Then, with an effort, she
rose and faced him.

"You are very angry with me," she said. "You are going to--to--give me
up."

His face hardened. He looked back at her with a sternness that sent the
blood to her heart. He said nothing whatever. She went on with
difficulty.

"But before you do," she said, "I want to tell you that--that--ever
since you asked me to marry you I have loved you--with my whole heart;
and I have never--in thought or deed--been other than true to my love. I
can't tell you any more than that. It is no good to question me. I may
have done things of which you would strongly disapprove, which you would
even condemn, but my heart has always been true to you--always."

She stopped. Her lips were quivering painfully. She saw that her words
had not moved him to confidence in her, and it seemed as if the whole
world had suddenly turned dark and empty and cold--a place to wander in,
but never to rest.

A long silence followed that supreme effort of hers. Baring's
eyes--blue, merciless as steel--were fixed upon her in a gaze that
pierced and hurt her. Yet he forced her to endure it. He held her in
front of him ruthlessly, almost cruelly.

"So I am not to question you?" he said at last. "You object to that?"

She winced at his tone.

"Don't!" she said under her breath. "Don't