"I like to see you in a passion, Dora; it suits you; you would have made a grand tragedy queen. I do not wish to vex you or to tease you, because, as you know, I wish to make you my wife. Do you know, can you guess, what has brought me here?" "No. You have broken our compact in coming, I know that!" Still it was the question over which she had pondered, by day and by night, ever since she had heard he was coming. It made her heart beat fast, but she would not give way; there was not the least sign of emotion. "Do you not wonder what has brought me here, Dora?" he repeated. "I am very indifferent," she said; "no one could be more so." "I will tell you. I came to see if you were keeping faith with me, if there was any rumor of a lover, any rumor of an engagement. I came purposely for that." "And if there had been?" she said. "If there had been, why, you see, Dora, matters would have turned out very awkwardly for both of us." "You are satisfied that there is not?" "Yes, tolerably so. There is no lover here; I hear of none in the neighborhood. And you are not engaged to be married--that I do know!" "How do you know?" "Because I have made inquiries in the proper direction. I am, I may say, quite satisfied." He could not tell the sensation of intense relief that came over her--the wild throbbing of her heart. She was safe then, so far, and could marry Earle. Half of the dread and fear she had felt faded away from her. "I own," continued Lord Vivianne, "that I have suspected you unjustly. You deceived me once, and I fancied that you intended to deceive me again; you eluded me once, you will not elude me again?" "You thought I was going to do so?" "I thought your manner strange, your leaving London in the height of your triumph strange, your coming to this quiet, though beautiful country home strange." "I told you that I wanted time for reflection," she said. "Yes: and even that, when I came to think of it, was strange. Of course I shall keep my word now that I have given it. But why should you, how can you, need time for reflection? The idea is utterly absurd. You cannot for a moment hesitate between my threat and my offer." "But I do hesitate," she said, "incredible as it may seem to you." He looked in her face, so fair and calm in the moonlight, and so proud. "I wish you would tell me why you hesitate?" he said. "I will. I dislike you so much. The idea of having to spend my life with you is so utterly abhorrent to me, that I hesitate between that and the total ruin that would follow my refusal." "You must indeed dislike me," he said, "if you prefer ruin, shame and disgrace to me." "I do." "Will you tell me why?" he asked. "I should have thought both answer and question useless. Why, to begin with, you tempted me to sin and shame, by flattering my vanity and my pride----" "You did not really require much temptation, Lady Studleigh."