"Not make her; no. Of course you can't make a girl. But persuading goes a long way. Why shouldn't she have me? As to all these rows, she ought to feel at any rate that they're her doing. And what she's done it stands to reason she could undo if she would. It only wants a word from her to put me all right with the governor,--and to put me all right with Travers and Treason too. Nobody can love her as I do." "I do believe that nobody could love her better," said Mr. Dosett, who was beginning to be melted by his nephew's earnestness. "Oughtn't that to go for something? And then she would have everything that she wishes. She might live anywhere she pleased,--so that I might go to the office every day. She would have her own carriage, you know." "I don't think that would matter much with Ayala." "It shows that I'm in a position to ask her," said Tom. "If she could only bring herself not to hate me--" "There is a difference, Tom, between hating and not loving." "If she would only begin to make a little way, then I could hope again. Uncle Reginald, could you not tell her that at any rate I would be good to her?" "I think you would be good to her," he said. "Indeed, I would. There is nothing I would not do for her. Now will you let me see her just once again, and have one other chance?" This was the great thing which Tom desired from his uncle, and Mr. Dosett was so much softened by his nephew's earnestness that he did promise to do as much as this;--to do as much as this, at least, if it were in his power. Of course, Ayala must be told. No good could be done by surprising her by a visit. But he would endeavour so to arrange it that, if Tom were to come to him on the following afternoon, they two should go to the Crescent together, and then Tom should remain and dine there,--or go away before dinner, as he might please, after the interview. This was settled, and Tom left Somerset House, rejoicing greatly at his success. It seemed to him that now at last a way was open to him.