wife offended your
modesty. You didn't care to notice it. But--you see; I gave your name
as MRS. Beaumont." He looked almost apologetic, in spite of his cynical
pose. "MRS. Beaumont," he repeated, pulling his flaxen moustache and
watching the effect.

She looked into his eyes speechless. "I am learning fast," she said
slowly, at last.

He thought the time had come for an emotional attack. "Jessie," he said,
with a sudden change of voice, "I know all this is mean, isvillanous.
But do you think that I have done all this scheming, all this
subterfuge, for any other object--"

She did not seem to listen to his words. "I shall ride home," she said
abruptly.

"To her?"

She winced.

"Just think," said he, "what she could say to you after this."

"Anyhow, I shall leave you now."

"Yes? And go--"

"Go somewhere to earn my living, to be a free woman, to live without
conventionality--"

"My dear girl, do let us be cynical. You haven't money and you haven't
credit. No one would take you in. It's one of two things: go back to
your stepmother, or--trust to me."

"How CAN I?"

"Then you must go back to her." He paused momentarily, to let this
consideration have its proper weight. "Jessie, I did not mean to say
the things I did. Upon my honour, I lost my head when I spoke so. If you
will, forgive me. I am a man. I could not help myself. Forgive me, and I
promise you--"

"How can I trust you?"

"Try me. I can assure you--"

She regarded him distrustfully.

"At any rate, ride on with me now. Surely we have been in the shadow of
this horrible bridge long enough."

"Oh! let me think," she said, half turning from him and pressing her
hand to her brow.

"THINK! Look here, Jessie. It is ten o'clock. Shall we call a truce
until one?"

She hesitated, demanded a definition of the truce, and at last agreed.

They mounted, and rode on in silence, through the sunlight and the
heather. Both were extremely uncomfortable and disappointed. She was
pale, divided between fear and anger. She perceived she was in a scrape,
and tried in vain to think of a way of escape. Only one tangible thing
would keep in her mind, try as she would to ignore it. That was the
quite irrelevant fact that his head was singularly like an albino
cocoanut. He, too, felt thwarted. He felt that this romantic business
of seduction was, after all, unexpectedly tame. But this was only the
beginning. At any rate, every day she spent with him was a day g