that he talked to me for half an hour about the place.

He seemed to have forgotten his vehemence of the night before. He asked
all sorts of questions, and showed a sentiment and a delicacy I should not
have expected from his hard face. I was quite sorry when the gong sounded
for luncheon and we went in.

I have no settled plan in my head. I seem to be drifting--tasting for the
first time some power over another human being. It gave me delicious
thrills to see his eagerness when contrasted with the dry refusal of my
hand only the day before.

At lunch I addressed myself to Mr. Barton; he was too flattered at my
attention, and continued to chatter garrulously.

The rain came on and poured and beat against the window-panes with a
sudden, angry thud. No chance of further walks abroad. I escaped up-stairs
while the butler was speaking to Mr. Carruthers, and began helping
Veronique to pack. Chaos and desolation it all seemed in my cosey rooms.

While I was on my knees in front of a great wooden box, hopelessly trying
to stow away books, a crisp tap came to the door, and without more ado my
host--yes, he is that now--entered the room.

"Good Lord! what is all this?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing?"

"Packing," I said, not getting up.

He made an impatient gesture.

"Nonsense!" he said. "There is no need to pack. I tell you I will not let
you go. I am going to marry you and keep you here always."

I sat down on the floor and began to laugh.

"You think so, do you?"

"Yes."

"You can't force me to marry you, you know--can you? I want to see the
world. I don't want any tiresome man bothering after me. If I ever do
marry, it will be because--oh, because--" and I stopped and began fiddling
with the cover of a book.

"What?"

"Mrs. Carruthers said it was so foolish--but I believe I should prefer to
marry some one I liked. Oh, I know you think that silly--" and I stopped
him as he was about to speak--"but of course, as it does not last, anyway,
it might be good for a little to begin like that--don't you think so?"

He looked round the room, and on through the wide-open double doors into
my dainty bedroom, where Veronique was still packing.

"You are very cosey here; it is absurd of you to leave it," he said.

I got up off the floor and went to the window and back. I don't know why I
felt moved--a sudden sense of the cosiness came over me. The world looked
wet and bleak outside.

"Why do you say you want me