Dempster resigned himself: and in a few seconds fear wound him up to a pitch of nervous excitement, abnormal even with him. 'I'll rehearse again,' he said aloud, withdrawing to the alcove. He got into the strait-jacket once more, and advanced on tip-toe to an imaginary lady. But the charge did not give him satisfaction. He retreated and stepped out a second time. He was too absorbed in his manoeuvres to remember that however perfect he might become, this mode would be out of the question in the impending interview. 'Good evening,' he said impressively to the mossy root, and got down on his knees. 'Miss Chartres'--and persuasion tipped his tongue--'I am burning to know----' A silvery ripple glided through the air behind him. 'I beg' pardon, Mr. Dempster. I was not aware you were so pious a man,' said Muriel. A jack-in-the-box when the spring is touched shoots up not more suddenly than Dempster did. Abashed, he could only stammer, 'Eh--ah--I mean well.' 'I do indeed believe you,' said Muriel in a kindly tone. 'My aunt has told me that you were about to honour me with an offer of marriage. I thank you, sir; but I beg you not to put me to the necessity--the very disagreeable necessity--of refusing you.' Half-an-hour before she could not have taken such a plain-spoken initiative; but the interview with Lee had roused her soul to arms. Dempster, on the contrary, dimly conscious of his own absurdity and afraid to trust his nature, stood forth against her in his strait-waistcoat of formality. He could hardly believe his ears, accustomed to the lie that no girl could possibly refuse a millionaire, a false tenet which he had donned with his first pair of trousers. 'Why should you refuse me? I--I am very rich, and I love you.' This was still pronounced in his best society tone. 'I am very sorry for you,' said Muriel frigidly. 'If you persist you will only annoy us both.' His fear suddenly left him. He felt an underhand attack upon his wealth, which was _him_--his personality. He threw off the strait-waistcoat. He turned up the sleeves of his riches, and, in a raucous tone like that of an aggrieved school bully who wants an excuse to pommel a small boy, said 'Why do you refuse me? Give me a reason.' 'A reason!' 'Yes. Is there anything extraordinary in asking for a reason? I can't be put off in this way, you know. Do you love another?' 'I am very sorry for you; but you are becoming impertinent.' 'But what am I to do if you won't marry me? All my friends know what I've come here for. It's absurd.' 'You had better desist.' It is charitable to suppose that Dempster was utterly unaware of what he was doing. Anger nearly suffocated him. He twisted and squirmed at every word, writhing with the anticipation of mockery. 'It's shameful,' he cried. 'Here have I been loving you like--like lava; and to be thrown overboard, ignominiously--yes, ignominiously'--he fancied he heard the word resounding in smoking-rooms--'for a poor nobody.'