“You are altogether mistaken,” he returned warmly. “I know absolutely nothing of your origin, and if I had known all about it that would not have had the slightest effect. Gentle birth or not, I should have made the same proposal; and if you imagine that ladies do not often receive and accept such proposals, you know little of what goes on in the world. But you must not think for a moment that I ever tried to find out your history from Merton. I put one question to him about you, and one only. Let me tell you what it was, and the answer he gave me. I asked him where you came from, or what your people were, and gave him a reason for my question, which was that the surname of Affleck had a peculiar interest for me. There was nothing wrong in that, I think? He said that you were an orphan, that the lady you lived with, not liking your own name, gave you the name of Affleck, solely because it took her fancy, or was uncommon, not because you had any relations of that name.” “He did not know, I suppose, that it was my mother's name,” said Fan. But the moment she had spoken it flashed across her mind that by that incautious speech she had revealed the secret of her birth, and her face crimsoned with shame and confusion. But the other did not notice it; and without raising his eyes from the ground he returned--“Your mother's name--what was her name?” “Margaret Affleck,” she answered; and thinking that it was not too late to repair the mistake she had made, and preserve her secret, she added, “That was her maiden name, and when the lady I lived with heard it, she preferred to call me by it because she did not like my right name.” “And what was your father's name?” “I cannot answer any more questions, Mr. Eden,” she returned, after an interval of silence. “It cannot matter to you in the least. Perhaps you say truly that it would have made no difference to you if I had come of a good family. That does not make me less unhappy, or alter my opinion of you. My only wish now is to go away, and to be left alone by you.” He continued silently prodding at the turf with his stick, his eyes fixed on the ground. She was nervous and anxious to make her escape, and could not help glancing frequently at his face, so strange in its unaccustomed gloom and look of abstraction. Suddenly he lifted his eyes to hers and said: “And if I refuse to leave you alone, Fan?” “Must I, then, go away altogether?” she returned with keen distress. “Will you be so cruel as to hunt me out of the place where I earn my bread? I have no one to protect me, Mr. Eden--surely you will not carry out such a threat, and force me to hide myself in some distant place!” “Do you think you could hide yourself where I would not find you, Fan?” he answered, looking up with a strange gleam in his eyes and a smile on his lips. She did not reply, although his words troubled her strangely. After a while he added: