"It shall be as you please," was his response. Then he began to tell us something of the play which we were about to see, and I forgot all about my discomforts, and enjoyed myself well. I was putting things in order in the drawing-room that night, for this was always one of my special duties, when Mr. Fanning, who had left the room a long time ago, came back. He came up to me holding his lighted candle in his hand. I started when I saw him. "Good night," I said coldly. "Pray don't go for a moment," he said. "I have come back here on the express chance of seeing you." "I cannot wait now, Mr. Fanning," I replied. "But I really must have an interview with you, it is of the highest importance,--when can I see you alone? When can you give me an hour of your time quite undisturbed?" "Never," I answered brusquely. "Now you will forgive me for saying that that is pure nonsense. If you will not promise me an hour of your own free will I shall take the present opportunity of speaking to you." "But I shall not stay," I answered with spirit, "and you cannot keep me here against my will. Mr. Fanning, I also will take the present opportunity of telling you that you and I have nothing in common, that I dislike your singling me out for special conversations of any kind, and that I hope in the future you will clearly understand that I do not wish you to do so." "Oh, that is all very fine," he said, "but come now; what have I done to make myself obnoxious? There is the old lady upstairs, she has taken no end of a fancy to you, she says you are the most charming and the prettiest girl she has ever seen, and what have you to say against my mother? Let me tell you that she has come to this house on purpose to make your acquaintance." "I have nothing whatever to say against your mother, Mr. Fanning, but I object to the subject of conversation which she chooses to occupy her time with while talking to me. I am not in the least interested in you, and I wish you and your mother clearly to understand this fact as quickly as possible." I do not think it was in the nature of Mr. Fanning ever to look crestfallen, or my present speech might have made him do so. He did not even change colour, but he looked at me out of those eyes which his mother had so vividly described, and after a moment said softly-- "There will come a day when you will regret this. An honest heart is offered to you and you trample it in the dust, but there will come a day when you will be sorry. How do you think this establishment is working?" I was so astonished and relieved at his change of conversation that I said-- "It seems to be going very well, don't you think so?"