'

'But you will.'

'I don't know. I don't feel like it just at present. You had better
know the exact truth, you know. I have told my father that I did not
think you'd ever come again, but that if you did I would accept you.
But I'm not going to tell any stories about it. You know who I've been
in love with.'

'But you can't be in love with him now.'

'Why not? I can't marry him. I know that. And if he were to come to
me, I don't think that I would. He has behaved bad.'

'Have I behaved bad?'

'Not like him. You never did care, and you never said you cared.'

'Oh yes,--I have.'

'Not at first. You say it now because you think that I shall like it.
But it makes no difference now. I don't mind about your arm being
there if we are to be married, only it's just as well for both of us
to look on it as business.'

'How very hard you are, Marie.'

'No, I ain't. I wasn't hard to Sir Felix Carbury, and so I tell you. I
did love him.'

'Surely you have found him out now.'

'Yes, I have,' said Marie. 'He's a poor creature.'

'He has just been thrashed, you know, in the streets,--most horribly.'
Marie had not been told of this, and started back from her lover's
arms. 'You hadn't heard it?'

'Who has thrashed him?'

'I don't want to tell the story against him, but they say he has been
cut about in a terrible manner.'

'Why should anybody beat him? Did he do anything?'

'There was a young lady in the question, Marie.'

'A young lady! What young lady? I don't believe it. But it's nothing
to me. I don't care about anything, Lord Nidderdale;--not a bit. I
suppose you've made up all that out of your own head.'

'Indeed, no. I believe he was beaten, and I believe it was about a
young woman. But it signifies nothing to me, and I don't suppose it
signifies much to you. Don't you think we might fix a day, Marie?'

'I don't care the least,' said Marie. 'The longer it's put off the
better I shall like it;--that's all.'

'Because I'm so detestable?'

'No,--you ain't detestable. I think you are a very good fellow; only
you don't care for me. But it is detestable not being able to do what
one wants. It's detestable having to quarrel with everybody and never
to be good friends with anybody. And it's horribly detestable having
nothing on earth to give one any interest.'

'You couldn't take any interest in me?'

'Not the least.'

'Suppose you try. Wouldn't you like to know anything about the place
where we live?'