"No, my child, I shall not," he said, smiling. "You say you are ready to expose me for this playful little interview which you interrupted between Ruth here and myself--Ruth, the lady who is to be my wife." "Your wife!" cried Marie indignantly. "Yes: my wife; and don't raise your voice like that, my dear child. By the way, you are back soon. Was not our dear Marcus at Bryanston Square?" "Marcus? Captain Glen?" cried Marie, whose lips turned white. "There, my dear little girl. You are not little now, but you seem little to me. You forget, in this wondrous fit of virtuous anger, that I have stood for so many years towards you in the light of a father. In my way I have helped you to position and a rich husband, and when I found that, womanlike--fashionable womanlike, I should say--your ladyship was beginning to show taste for pleasure, and even taking to your handsome self a lover, I did not interfere. While because I, in due course, and after a long and patient courtship, take the girl I love in my arms, you talk of turning me out, call me scoundrel and villain, and threaten me with Lord Henry's displeasure." "It is disgraceful, sir," said Marie; "you are old enough to be her father." "Humph! Yes. Perhaps so, but nothing like so much older as Lord Henry is than you. Now look here, my dear Marie, I am obliged to speak plainly. I don't ask for a truce; but I demand your help and countenance. I mean to marry Ruth." Marie stood pointing to the door, but Montaigne did not stir. "Pshaw!" he exclaimed--"a stage trick. Are you aware of what it means to make me your enemy, my dear child? You are angry and excited now. You did not quite realise my words. Do you think I am blind about Captain Glen? As to dropping the mask, well, there, it is down. I am a man even as you are a woman, and why should I not love?" Marie's arm dropped to her side, and she stood gazing at him with her cheeks and lips now ashy of hue. "There," he continued, laughing, "the storm is over, and we understand each other. I will go now, and mind this, dear Marie, I will religiously keep your ladyship's secrets so long as you keep mine." He rose, and, taking her hand, mockingly kissed it. Then, crossing to Ruth, he would have caught her in his arms, but she started from him, and stood at bay on the other side of a table. "You foolish child!" he said, laughing; "you must be a little wiser when I come again." As the door closed upon him Marie stood with her eyes closed, listening, and then with a cry of despair she threw herself into her cousin's arms. "Oh, Ruth, Ruth, Ruth, what have I done! what have I done! I swear to you I am innocent, indeed--indeed." "I believe it, I know it," cried Ruth, holding her to her heart; "but oh, Marie, you must never see him again! Pray, pray keep away."