glance she perceived that her lover's
mood was by no means correspondingly gay. Cobb stalked forward and
kept a stern gaze upon her, but said nothing.

'Well? You got my letter, I suppose?'

'What letter?'

He had not been home since breakfast-time, so Louise's appeal to him
for advice lay waiting his arrival. Impatiently, she described the
course of events. As soon as she had finished, Cobb threw his hat
aside and addressed her harshly.

'I want to know what you mean by writing to your sister that you are
going to marry Bowling. I saw your mother this morning, and that's
what she told me. It must have been only a day or two ago that you
said that. Just explain, if you please. I'm about sick of this kind
of thing, and I'll have the truth out of you.'

His anger had never taken such a form as this; for the first time
Louise did in truth feel afraid of him. She shrank away, her heart
throbbed, and her tongue refused its office.

'Say what you mean by it!' Cobb repeated, in a voice that was all
the more alarming because he kept it low.

'Did you write that to your sister?'

'Yes--but I never meant it--it was just to make her angry--'

'You expect me to believe that? And, if it's true, doesn't it make
you out a nice sort of girl? But I don't believe it You've been
thinking of him in that way all along; and you've been writing to
him, or meeting him, since you came here. What sort of behaviour do
you call this?'

Louise was recovering self-possession; the irritability of her own
temper began to support her courage.

'What if I have? I'd never given _you_ any promise till last night,
had I? I was free to marry anyone I liked, wasn't I? What do _you_
mean by coming here and going on like this? I've told you the truth
about that letter, and I've always told you the truth about
everything. If you don't like it, say so and go.'

Cobb was impressed by the energy of her defence. He looked her
straight in the eyes, and paused a moment; then spoke less
violently.

'You haven't told me the _whole_ truth. I want to know when you saw
Bowling last.'

'I haven't seen him since I left home.'

'When did you write to him last?'

'The same day I wrote to Cissy. And I shall answer no more
questions.'

'Of course not. But that's quite enough. You've been playing a
double game; if you haven't told lies, you've acted them. What sort
of a wife would you make? How could I ever believe a word you said?
I shall have no more t