ike you
did once before, that I'm no good but to pry into other people's
business.'

'You may pry as much as you like,' was the murmured reply.

'Just because you don't care what I do?'

'Drink your wine and try to be quiet just for a little.'

'Why?'

He made no answer, until Jessie asked--

'Why does it seem to interest you so much?'

'What?--all that stuff you've been telling me? I was thinking of
something quite different.'

'Oh!' exclaimed the girl, blankly.

There was a longer silence. Jessie let her eyes stray about the room,
stealing a glance at Dagworthy occasionally. Presently he rose, poked
the fire with violence, and drank his own wine, which had been waiting
so long.

'I must have out the carriage to send you back,' he said, going to the
window to look at the foul weather.

'The carriage, indeed!' protested the girl, with a secret joy. 'You'll
do no such thing.'

'I suppose I shall do as I choose,' he remarked, quietly. Then he came
and rang the bell.

'You're not really going to--?'

A servant answered, and the carriage was ordered.

'Well, certainly that's one way of getting rid of me,' Jessie observed.

'You can stay as long as you please.'

'But the carriage will be round.'

'Can't I keep it waiting half through the night if I choose? I've done
so before now. I suppose I'm master in my own house.'

It was strictly true, that, of the carriage. Once the coachman had been
five minutes late on an evening when Dagworthy happened to be
ill-tempered. He bade the man wait at the door, and the waiting lasted
through several hours.

The room was growing dusk.

'Aren't you very lonely here?' Jessie asked, an indescribable change in
her voice.

'Yes, I suppose I am. You won't make it any better by telling me so.'

'I feel sorry.'

'I dare say you do.'

'Of course you don't believe me. All the same, I _do_ feel sorry.'

'That won't help.'

'No?--I suppose it won't.'

The words were breathed out on a sigh. Dagworthy made no answer.

'I'm not much better off,' she continued, in a low-spirited voice.

'Nonsense!' he ejaculated, roughly, half turning his back on her.

Jessie fumbled a moment at her dress; then, succeeding in getting her
handkerchief out, began to press it against her eyes furtively.
Strangely, there was real moisture to be removed.

'What's the matter with you?' Dagworthy asked with surprise.

She no longer attempted concealment, but began to cry quietly.