until she had taken Jane upstairs and left
Mr. Worthington and Cynthia together. This matter had been arranged
between the sisters before supper. Susan found her opening at last, and
upbraided Jane for her unfinished theme; Jane, having learned her lesson
well, accused Susan. But Cynthia, who saw through the ruse, declared that
both themes were finished. Susan, naturally indignant at such
ingratitude, denied this. The manoeuvre, in short, was executed very
clumsily and very obviously, but executed nevertheless--the sisters
marching out of the room under a fire of protests. The reader, too, will
no doubt think it a very obvious manoeuvre, but some things are managed
badly in life as well as in books.

Cynthia and Bob were left alone: left, moreover, in mortal terror of each
other. It is comparatively easy to open the door of a room and rush into
a lady's arms if the lady be willing and alone. But to be abandoned, as
Susan had abandoned them, and with such obvious intent, creates quite a
different atmosphere. Bob had dared to hope for such an opportunity: had
made up his mind during supper, while striving to be agreeable, just what
he would do if the opportunity came. Instead, all he could do was to sit
foolishly in his chair and look at the coals, not so much as venturing to
turn his head until the sound of footsteps had died away on the upper
floors. It was Cynthia who broke the silence and took command--a very
different Cynthia from the girl who had thrown herself on the bed not
three hours before. She did not look at him, but stared with
determination into the fire.

"Bob, you must go," she said.

"Go!" he cried. Her voice loosed the fetters of his passion, and he dared
to seize the band that lay on the arm of her chair. She did not resist
this.

"Yes, you must go. You should not have stayed for supper."

"Cynthia," he said, "how can I leave you? I will not leave you."

"But you can and must," she replied.

"Why?" he asked, looking at her in dismay.

"You know the reason," she answered.

"Know it?" he cried. "I know why I should stay. I know that I love you
with my whole heart and soul. I know that I love you as few men have ever
loved--and that you are the one woman among millions who can inspire such
a love."

"No, Bob, no," she said, striving hard to keep her head, withdrawing her
hand that it might not betray the treason of her lips. Aware, strange as
it may seem, of the absurdity of the source of wha