"Not yet," he said playfully, and without relaxing his grasp; "there is a deal more to say. You have to make me plenty of promises, that you will act sensibly; and I want these promises, not from fear, but because you love me, dear. Silent? Well, I must tell you a little more. I made up my mind to this, my child, when I came to you that night. `I'll marry her,' I said; `it will solve all the difficulties and make her the happiest life.'" "No, no, it is impossible, Mr Garstang," she cried. "There, you have said enough now. You must--you shall let me go. Is this your conduct towards the helpless girl who trusted you?" "Yes," he said laughingly, "it is my conduct towards the helpless girl who trusted me; and it is the right treatment of one who cannot help herself." "No," she cried desperately; "and so I trusted to you, believing you to be worthy of that trust." "And so I am, dear; more than worthy. Kate, dearest, do you know that I am going to make you a happy woman, that I give you the devotion of my life? Every hour shall be spent in devising some new pleasure for you, in making you one of the most envied of your sex. I am older, but what of that? Perhaps your young fancy has strayed toward some hero whom your imagination has pictured; but you are not a foolish girl. You have so much common sense that you must see that your position renders it compulsory that you should have a protector." "A protector!" she cried bitterly. "Yes; I must be plain with you, unless you throw off all this foolish resistance. Come, be sensible. To-morrow, or the next day, we will be married, and then we can set the whole world at defiance." "Mr Garstang, you are mad!" she cried, with such a look of repugnance in her eyes that she stung him into sudden rage. "Mad for loving you?" he cried. "For loving me!" she said scornfully. "No, it is the miserable love of the wretched fortune. Well, take it; only loose me now; let me go. You are a lawyer, sir, and I suppose you know what to do. There are pens and paper. Loose me, and go and sit down and write; I promise you I will not try to leave the room; lock the door, if you like, till you have done writing." "It is already locked," he said mockingly; and he smiled as he saw her turn pale. "Very well," she said calmly; "then I cannot escape. Go and write, and I will sign it without a murmur. I give everything to you; only let me go. It is impossible that we can ever meet again."