Somewhat surprised at her tone, Barton followed her, and, having made fast the window, looked at her in the yellow lamplight. Miriam, with her hands loosely clasped on her black dress, looked, in her turn, without flinching, at this man who considered himself her master. His eyes--wicked as they were--fell before that clear resolute gaze. "Well, what is it?" he asked roughly, and threw himself into a chair. Still standing, Miriam replied to this question quietly and with curtness. "I wish to go away." "Indeed! You wish to go away--why?" "Because I am not happy here, and I am doing no good." "Indeed, I think you are doing a great deal of good," replied Barton, with a gentleness far from common with him. "You are making a man of Dicky. You have rescued him from the influence of his foolish mother. Come, Miriam, let us sit down and talk this over." "I am fond of Dicky," said Miriam, taking a seat; "he is a good child and very lovable. If it were only Dicky I should not mind. But his mother is jealous of me. She hates me; so does that Marsh girl. They would do me an injury if they could. Besides," added she, looking very earnestly at Barton, "I do not quite understand you--why did you rescue me in London, and bring me down here?" Barton rose, and began to pace to and fro. He prefaced his speech with his customary chuckle. "Oh, it was no philanthropy, believe me," he said. "If you had been a plain woman, you might have gone your way. I told you that before. As it was, I saw that you were not--in fact, not only were you a beautiful woman, which was necessary to my plans, but you were a good one into the bargain. I knew that, notwithstanding your somewhat equivocal position when we met on Waterloo Bridge. So I brought you here. You know why." "I know what you said--that you wished me to marry some one in whom you were interested, and the other day you pointed out Mr. Arkel as the gentleman. But why do you wish me to marry him?" "I'll tell you that later. But, say, have I not been good to you--bad man as you think me to be?" "In a manner you have, but I cannot disguise from myself that what you have done has been to your own ends. You have given me money for myself and Jabez, and you have obtained me this situation----" "You forget--there is something else. Did I not promise you two hundred pounds if you succeeded in marrying Gerald, and taking him away from that shallow hussy?" "Yes, and I accepted your offer, so that Jabez might go to America, and there start afresh--it was for his sake I did it." "He is not worthy of it, believe me." Miriam made a gesture of despair. "Perhaps not; but knowing what you do you cannot wonder at my anxiety to help him all I can--yes, even if to do it, I have to marry at your bidding." "But Gerald is a handsome fellow, Miriam. I can't see what you have to complain of!"