There was no mistake about the joyous ring which was in his voice. On her part she seemed not to know what to say, or do, or make of him, as if his presence there was a possibility of which she had never dreamed. "Mr. Spencer, you--you ought not to be here; I--I must beg of you to let me pass." "Why, my dear Nora, of course I'll let you pass; do you suppose I want to block the way? But why do you call me Mr. Spencer? and why do you keep out of kissing distance? Do you know how long it is since I had a kiss? and how often of late I've pictured the delicious moment in which I was to have another? Nora!" The colours chased each other across her cheeks in rainbow hues; she strove her utmost to look dignified; but, to his thinking, she only looked more delightful; her very severity he thought became her. "Mr. Spencer, you--you have no right to talk to me like this. You have had my letter----" "Your letter? what letter?" "The one I sent you yesterday; it ought to have been delivered this morning." "It wasn't; I've had no letter of yours which you sent me yesterday; where did you send it? to what address?" "I addressed it to you at Holtye." "Then that's why I've not had it; possibly I never shall have it. You rushed off in such a flurry, before I could speak a word to you, that I had no chance to tell you that I wasn't staying at Holtye." "Not staying at Holtye? then where are you staying?" "At the 'Unicorn,' I've taken a room there; it's only another illustration of the truth of what I've so often told you, the more haste the worse speed. I can see now that you'd go tearing off if I'd let you; but I won't. I want to explain." "I--I'd rather you explained through the post." "Then I wouldn't; and I'm not going to. When people wish to understand each other in matters of real importance I hold that they'd better do so face to face; I've no faith in pen and ink; microbes breed in ink-bottles, which breed all sorts of misconceptions. Now I can see that you're rushing at your fences again. You're taking it for granted that I wish to speak to you on one subject, when I principally wish to speak to you about your father. I want to tell you something about him which you ought to know." "What is it?" Her voice was faint, as if she felt that unfair engines of war were being used against her. "Your father hoped that we should marry; he knew that I loved you, and would always love you; and he thought you loved me, and would always love me; and therefore----" "What were you going to tell me about my father?" She perceived that he was trenching on dangerous ground, and tried to get him off it; he came off with much agility. "I met him on the morning on which I was starting for Cairo----" "You never told me." "I had an idea that he didn't wish me to mention that I'd met him, so I didn't. We lunched together; he gave me a most excellent lunch----" "I'm glad he gave you an excellent lunch."