“Yes,” replied Margaret, not smiling at all, but speaking very gravely. “You began to fall the moment Major King came into this room last night, and you have been falling ever since, as I have gone over it all in my mind. You reached the bottom when my cousin came in this evening, and the shock was so great that it caused a slight rebound; but I don’t suppose that signifies much.” If the girl’s eyes had not been fixed upon the fire she would probably have checked her speech at the sight of the expression which settled upon her companion’s face the moment Major King’s name was mentioned. But she did not see it, and was therefore unprepared for the hard, cold tone in which his next words were uttered. “I have felt and acknowledged my fault, where your cousin was concerned,” he said. “Mr. Decourcy is a gentleman, and nothing but the fact of my being preoccupied with the resentment I felt at certain words of yours at the time, would have caused me to act toward him as I did. This explains, but does not justify my conduct, which I have acknowledged to be unjustifiable. But in the other case, Miss Trevennon, I must maintain that I acted rightly.” “If that is your feeling about it,” Margaret said, “I think this conversation had better end here.” “Why, Miss Trevennon?” he asked, a little defiantly. “I see no reason why it should.” “Because its object, as I suppose, has been to bring about an understanding between us; and since you have defined your sentiments, it is clear to me that we could no more come to understand each other than if you spoke Sanscrit and I spoke French.” “I believe you are mistaken,” he said. “I have a feeling that our positions are not so widely different as they may appear to be. Don’t refuse to listen to me, Miss Trevennon; that would be unjust, and you are not an unjust woman.” It was a wonderful proof of the hold she had laid upon him that he took such trouble to exonerate himself in her eyes, and he felt it so himself, but he no longer denied the fact that Miss Trevennon’s good opinion was a matter of vast importance to him. The little impulses of anger which her severe words now and then called forth, were always short lived. One glance at the lovely face and figure near him was generally enough to banish them, and now, as he treated himself to a long look at the fair countenance, with its sweet downcast eyes and slightly saddened mouth, the impossibility of quarrelling with this exquisite creature presented itself so strongly, that he grew suddenly so friendly and at ease, that he was able to assume a tone that was pleasant, and almost gay, as he said: “Now, Miss Trevennon, honor bright! You know perfectly well that you don’t like that man one bit better than I do.”