l
his eager and wistful attention was concentrated on her face; what
answer was about to appear there to his urgent prayer? "Don't you
understand why I am here, dear Kate?" said he, and he advanced a little,
but very timidly.

"Well, really," said she, for she was bound to appear a trifle shocked,
"when such a dreadful thing happens--your father's sudden death--really
I think that should be the first thing in your mind; I think you ought
not to delay a moment in going home."

"You think me heartless, but you don't understand," said he, eager to
justify himself in her eyes. "Of course I'm sorry. But my father and I
never got on very well; he was always trying to thwart me."

"Yes, but for the sake of mere outward form and decency," she ventured
to say.

"That's just it!" he said, quickly. "I'll have to go away down there,
and I don't know how long I may be kept; and--and--I thought if I could
take with me some assurance that these altered circumstances would weigh
with you--you see, dear Kate, I am my own master now, I can do what I
like--and you know what it is I ask. Now tell me--you _will_ be my wife!
I can quite understand your hesitating before; I was dependent upon my
father; if he had disapproved there might have been trouble; but now it
is different."

Miss Burgoyne stood silent, her eyes fixed on the floor, her fingers
interclasped. He looked at her. Then, finding she had no answer for him,
a curious change of expression came over his face.

"And if you hesitate now," he said, vindictively, "I know the reason,
and I know it is a reason you may as well put out of your mind. Oh, I am
quite aware of the shilly-shallying that has been going on between you
and that fellow Moore--I know you've been struck, like all the rest of
the women--but you may as well give up that fancy. Mr. Moore isn't much
of a catch, _now_!"

She raised her head, and there was an angry flash in her eyes that for a
second frightened him.

"Magnanimous!" she said, with a curl of her lip. "To taunt a man with
being ill, when perhaps he is lying on his death-bed!"

"It is not because he is ill," he retorted, and his naturally pale face
was somewhat paler, "I dare say he'll get well enough again. It is
because he is dead broke and ruined. And do you know who did it?" he
went on, more impetuously still. "Well, I did it! I said I would break
him, and I broke him. I knew he was only playing with you and making a
fool of you, and I said to