_Mr. R._--"I'll think so till you tell me again that our engagement is broken; that the faithful love of years is to go for nothing; that you dismiss me with cruel insult, without one word of explanation, without a word of intelligible accusation, even. It's too much! I've been thinking it all over and over, and I can't make head or tail of it. I meant to see you again as soon as we got to town, and implore you to hear me. Come, it's a mighty serious matter, Lucy. I'm not a man to put on heroics and that; but _I_ believe it'll play the very deuce with me, Lucy,--that is to say, Miss Galbraith,--I do indeed. It'll give me a low opinion of woman." _Miss G._, averting her face.--"Oh, a very high opinion of woman you have had!" _Mr. R._, with sentiment.--"Well, there was one woman whom I thought a perfect angel." _Miss G._--"Indeed! May I ask her name?" _Mr. R._, with a forlorn smile.--"I shall be obliged to describe her somewhat formally as--Miss Galbraith." _Miss G._--"Mr. Richards!" _Mr. R._--"Why, you've just forbidden me to say _Lucy_. You must tell me, dearest, what I have done to offend you. The worst criminals are not condemned unheard, and I've always thought you were merciful if not just. And now I only ask you to be just." _Miss G._, looking out of the window.--"You know very well what you've done. You can't expect me to humiliate myself by putting your offence into words." _Mr. R._--"Upon my soul, I don't know what you mean! I _don't_ know what I've done. When you came at me, last night, with my ring and presents and other little traps, you might have knocked me down with the lightest of the lot. I was perfectly dazed; I couldn't say anything before you were off, and all I could do was to hope that you'd be more like yourself in the morning. And in the morning, when I came round to Mrs. Phillips's I found you were gone, and I came after you by the next train." _Miss G._--"Mr. Richards, your personal history for the last twenty-four hours is a matter of perfect indifference to me, as it shall be for the next twenty-four hundred years. I see that you are resolved to annoy me, and since _you_ will not leave the car, _I_ must do so." She rises haughtily from her seat, but the imprisoned skirt of her polonaise twitches her abruptly back into her chair. She bursts into tears. "Oh, what _shall_ I do!"