"Oh, but you can't have changed in four or five hours," she pleaded gently, yet with a little smile. "That's absurd. You're mistaken about yourself. It's just that you're angry about Oliver--angry and jealous. And that makes you think you love me. But you never would! To begin with, you're too loyal, too honest, too fond of--Oh, you'd never do it!" "I had never thought of you as--in that way. But when I saw him, he made me do it. And then--yes, all of a sudden!" He turned his eyes up to her, but imploring mercy rather than favour. She pressed his shoulder affectionately. "Yes, I suppose it's possible--it might be like that with a man," she said. "I suppose it might. I never thought of it. But only just for a moment, Cousin Arthur! It's not real with you. You'll get over it directly; you'll forget it, and think of me in the old pleasant way you used, as being----" With another little squeeze on his shoulder she laughed low--"Oh, all the wonderful things I know you thought me!" She suddenly recollected how she stood. She drew in her breath sharply, with a sound almost like a sob. "Ah, no, you can never think like that of me again, can you?" He was silent for a moment, not looking up at her now, but straight in front of him. "Then--it's true?" he asked. With a forlorn shake of her head she answered, "Yes, it's true. Since you're like this, I can't keep it up any longer. It's all true. Oliver loves me, and I love him, and all you suspected is--well, is going to be true about us." "If you'll only drop that, I swear I'll never breathe a word about--about myself! I will forget! I'll go away till I have forgotten. I'll----" "Oh, poor boy, I know you would. I should absolutely trust you. But how am I to--drop that?" She smiled ruefully. "It's become just my life." She suddenly lifted her hands above her head and cried in a low but passionate voice, "Oh, I can't bear this! It's terrible. Don't be so miserable, dear Arthur! I can't bear to see you!" She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "You who've been such a dear dear friend and comrade to me--you who could have made me go on enduring it all here if anybody could! But Oliver came--and look what he's done to both of us!" "You love him?" "Oh, yes, yes, yes! Or how could all this be happening? You must believe that. I didn't want you to know it--Yes, you were right, I was trying to get you out of the way, I wasn't honest. But since things have turned out like this, you must believe now, indeed you must." For a full minute he sat silent and motionless. Then he reached up, took her hand, and kissed it three--four--times. "God help me! Well, I'll go to London to-morrow. I can't face him--or Godfrey. I should let it all out in a minute. I can't think how you manage!"