ous grasp.

"Ruth, Ruth!" he cried, and his voice was for once unsteady. "Give it no
thought! I love you, Ruth. If you'll but heed that, no breath of scandal
can hurt you."

She swallowed hard. "As how?" she asked mechanically.

He bowed low over her hand--so low that his face was hidden from her.

"If you will do me the honour to become my wife..." he began, but got no
further, for she snatched away her hand, her cheeks crimsoning, her eyes
aflame with indignation. He stepped back, crimsoning too. She had dashed
the gentleness from his mood. He was angered now and tigerish.

"Oh!" she panted. "It is to affront me! Is this the time or place..."

He cropped her flow of indignant speech ere it was well begun. He caught
her in his arms, and held her tight, and so sudden was the act, so firm
his grip that she had not the thought or force to struggle.

"All time is love's time, all places are love's place," he told her,
his face close to her own. "And of all time and places the present ever
preferable to the wise--for life is uncertain and short at best. I bring
you worship, and you answer me with scorn. But I shall prevail, and you
shall come to love me in very spite of your own self."

She threw back her head, away from his as far as the bonds he had cast
about her would allow. "Air! Air!" she panted feebly.

"Oh, you shall have air enough anon," he answered with a half-strangled
laugh, his passion mounting ever. "Hark you, now--hark you, for
Richard's sake, since you'll not listen for my own nor yours. There is
another course by which I can save both Richard's life and honour.
You know it, and you counted upon my generosity to suggest it. But you
overlooked the thing on which you should have counted. You overlooked my
love. Count upon that, my Ruth, and Richard shall have naught to fear.
Count upon that, and when we meet this evening, Richard and I, it is
I who will tender the apology, I who will admit that I was wrong to
introduce your name into that company last night, and that what Richard
did was a just and well-deserved punishment upon me. This will I do if
you'll but count upon my love."

She looked up at him fearfully, yet with flutterings of hope. "What is't
you mean?" she asked him faintly.

"That if you'll promise to be my wife..."

"Your wife!" she interrupted him. She struggled to free herself,
released one arm and struck him in the face. "Let me go, you coward!"

He was answered. His arms melted