ng his white coat. A momentary gleam of
anger shot into his eyes and he gave a gasp, whether of surprise, pain,
or annoyance, I know not. He made a gesture towards me. I half expected
and fervently wished he would strike. The enormity of what I had done
paralysed me. The whip fell from my fingers and I dropped on to a low
lounge behind me, and placing my elbows on my knees crouchingly buried my
face in my hands; my hair tumbled softly over my shoulders and reached
the floor, as though to sympathetically curtain my humiliation. Oh, that
Harold would thrash me severely! It would have infinitely relieved me. I
had done a mean unwomanly thing in thus striking a man, who by his great
strength and sex was debarred retaliation. I had committed a violation of
self-respect and common decency; I had given a man an ignominious blow in
the face with a riding-whip. And that man was Harold Beecham, who with
all his strength and great stature was so wondrously gentle--who had
always treated my whims and nonsense with something like the amused
tolerance held by a great Newfoundland for the pranks of a kitten.

The clock struck eleven.

"A less stinging rebuke would have served your purpose. I had no idea
that a simple caress from the man whose proposal of marriage you had just
accepted would be considered such an unpardonable familiarity."

Harold's voice fell clearly, calmly, cuttingly on the silence. He moved
away to the other end of the room and I heard the sound of water.

A desire filled me to tell him that I did not think he had attempted a
familiarity, but that I had been mad. I wished to say I could not account
for my action, but I was dumb. My tongue refused to work, and I felt as
though I would choke. The splash of the water came from the other end of
the room. I knew he must be suffering acute pain in his eye. A far
lighter blow had kept me sleepless a whole night. A fear possessed me
that I might have permanently injured his sight. The splash of water
ceased. His footfall stopped beside me. I could feel he was within
touching distance, but I did not move.

Oh, the horrible stillness! Why did he not speak? He placed his hand
lightly on my head.

"It doesn't matter, Syb. I know you didn't mean to hurt me. I suppose you
thought you couldn't affect my dark, old, saddle-flap-looking phiz. That
is one of the disadvantages of being a big lumbering concern like I am.
Jump up. That's the girl."

I arose. I was giddy, and woul