he house. In about half an hour he sauntered upon the terrace,
and flattened his nose against the window. She bowed and smiled to
him,--hating herself for smiling. It was perhaps the first time that
she had endeavoured to put on a pleasant face wherewithal to greet
him. He said nothing then, but passed round the house, threw away
the end of his cigar, and entered the room. Whatever happened, she
would not be a coward. The thing had to be done. Seeing that she had
accepted him on the previous day, had not run away in the night or
taken poison, and had come down to undergo the interview, she would
undergo it at least with courage. What did it matter, even though he
should embrace her? It was her lot to undergo misery, and as she had
not chosen to take poison, the misery must be endured. She rose as he
entered and gave him her hand. She had thought what she would do, and
was collected and dignified. He had not, and was very awkward. "So
you haven't gone to church, Sir Griffin,--as you ought," she said,
with another smile.

"Come; I've gone as much as you."

"But I had a headache. You stayed away to smoke cigars."

"I stayed to see you, my girl." A lover may call his lady love his
girl, and do so very prettily. He may so use the word that she will
like it, and be grateful in her heart for the sweetness of the sound.
But Sir Griffin did not do it nicely. "I've got ever so much to say
to you."

"I won't flatter you by saying that I stayed to hear it."

"But you did;--didn't you now?" She shook her head, but there was
something almost of playfulness in her manner of doing it. "Ah, but I
know you did. And why shouldn't you speak out, now that we are to be
man and wife? I like a girl to speak out. I suppose if I want to be
with you, you want as much to be with me; eh?"

"I don't see that that follows."

"By ----, if it doesn't, I'll be off!"

"You must please yourself about that, Sir Griffin."

"Come; do you love me? You have never said you loved me." Luckily
perhaps for her he thought that the best assurance of love was a
kiss. She did not revolt, or attempt to struggle with him; but the
hot blood flew over her entire face, and her lips were very cold to
his, and she almost trembled in his grasp. Sir Griffin was not a man
who could ever have been the adored of many women, but the instincts
of his kind were strong enough within him to make him feel that she
did not return his embrace with passion. He had found her to