estly have deprecated. So he bowed with mock
submission and replied:

"Pardon me, I will say no more. Your mother must be my advocate with you.
I must send her to you to plead my cause."

And with another and a deeper bow he stepped to the side of the path and
let the girl and her dog pass on before him.

CHAPTER VIII

IN THE CRUCIBLE

He promptly kept his word. He struck into the woods, made a short detour,
and came out again upon the path some yards in front of Odalite and her
guardian. Walking rapidly, he arrived at home before her.

He went immediately in search of Mrs. Force, whom he found at her piano in
the drawing room.

"I must have a few moments uninterrupted conversation with you. Where can
I best secure it?"

"Here," she answered, wearily. "No one is likely to enter and disturb
you."

"Very well, then. Here be it," he assented, walking down the room to a
group of chairs near the open fire.

She arose and followed him.

As soon as they were seated he said:

"I have just left your daughter. I have made her an offer of my hand."

"Well?"

"She refused it."

"Just what you might have expected."

"Thank you."

"What next?"

"I am not a man to be repulsed. I pressed my suit with some earnest
persistency."

"And then?"

"She threatened to appeal to her father for protection against me."

"Poor Odalite! Poor child!" murmured the unhappy mother.

"Poor idiot!" brutally exclaimed the man. "See here, madam, I shall insist
upon this marriage. If she is permitted to appeal to her father at this
point I shall be disappointed, but you will be lost. You must see the girl
at once, before the return of her father this evening. You must induce her
to accept me for her husband. She must be made to do so, or pretend to do
so, willingly, joyfully. You know best what arguments to use with her. You
must also persuade your husband to consent to the marriage, for the sake
of his dear daughter's happiness, you understand."

"For the sake of his dear daughter's 'happiness'!" moaned Elfrida Force,
in mournful irony.

"Yes. I repeat it. For the sake of her happiness. How, under existing
circumstances, should her happiness be best preserved, do you think? By
marrying that young naval officer, and seeing, as a consequence, the ruin
and dishonor of her whole family, and, bitterest of all, being made to
feel the shame and regret of her own young husband for having married her,
the daughter of----"