he's
not the woman to link her fortune with a ruined man. Can't you guess _"
that?_ Stocmar nodded, and Paten went on: "Now, _I_ mean to stand to
win on either event,--that's _my_ book."

"I don't understand you, Paul."

"Call me Ludlow, confound you," said Paten, passionately, "or that
infernal name will slip out some day unawares. What I would say is,
that, if she wishes to be 'My Lady,' she must buy _me_ off first. If she
'll consent to become my wife,--that is the other alternative."

"She'll never do that," said Stocmar, gravely.

"How do you know,--did she tell you so?"

"Certainly not."

"You only know it, then, from your intimate acquaintance with her
sentiments," said he, sneeringly.

"How I know, or why I believe it, is my own affair," said Stocmar, in
some irritation; "but such is my conviction."

"Well, it is not mine," said Paten, filling up his glass, and
drinking it slowly off. "I know her somewhat longer--perhaps somewhat
better--than you do; and if I know anything in her, it is that she
never cherishes a resentment when it costs too high a price."

"You are always the slave of some especial delusion, Ludlow," said
Stocmar, quietly. "You are possessed with the impression that she is
afraid of you. Now, my firm persuasion is, that the man or woman that
can terrify _her_ has yet to be born."

"How she has duped you!" said Paten, insolently.

"That may be," said he. "There is, however, one error I have not fallen
into,--I have not fancied that she is in love with me."

This sally told; for Paten became lividly pale, and he shook from head
to foot with passion. Careful, however, to conceal the deep offence the
speech had given him, he never uttered a word in reply. Stocmar saw his
advantage, and was silent also. At last he spoke, but it was in a tone
so conciliatory and so kindly withal, as to efface, if possible, all
unpleasant memory of the last speech. "I wish you would be guided by
me, Ludlow, in this business. It is not a question for passion or
vindictiveness; and I would simply ask you, Is there not space in the
world for both of you, without any need to cross each other? Must your
hatred of necessity bridge over all distance, and bring you incessantly
into contact? In a word, can you not go your road, and let her go hers,
unmolested?"

"Our roads lie the same way, man. I want to travel with her," cried
Paten.

"But not in spite of her!--not, surely, if she declines your company!"