He touches the white, extended hand very lightly, and takes the chair she places. "I was passing, and I thought I would look in upon you a few moments," he observes, with unblushing nonchalance. "I am thankful for even that small grace," Maud answers, with her most winning smile. "I know I have been a very bad girl to you, Vane, but I think if you knew how sincere my repentance is you would not mind coming now and then to cheer my lonely hours." Then she drops her eyes and sighs. Vane looks at the fair, calm, languid beauty in wondering silence. A little while ago this had been his idea of perfect beauty. Since then he has learned to love the slumberous fire that glows in dark eyes and the soul that dwells on scarlet lips and dusky, brunette complexions. The sweetness of the rose has won his heart, but the beauty of the lily unconsciously charms his eyes even now when he knows how false she is at heart, and only fair in outward seeming. "I--I have no time for calling," he responds, with cool politeness. "I am always busy." "Always?" she arches her golden brows slightly. "That is unfortunate. I suppose, then, that I may abandon the hope that I have been secretly cherishing, that you would relent and take the management of my property." Vane regards her in apparent surprise. "Is it possible you have found no one else?" he inquires, carelessly. "I told you I should not try until I heard from you," she answers. "True, I had forgotten that," he answers. "And so you have been waiting all this time. I wish you would tell me why you wish me to do this for you when there are others equally capable, and far more willing." Of this pointed reminder Maud wisely takes no heed save a gentle, quickly suppressed sigh. "Perhaps you would be angry if I told you my reason," she says, gently, removing her eyes a moment from the contemplation of her folded, milk-white hands to glance into his fair, grave, handsome face. "Oh, no, I am quite curious to hear," he replies. "I think you know that Mr. Langton allowed his lawyer a very liberal salary," she begins. "You know there is a great deal of work, really, a number of tenements here, several farms in the country----" "I know all that," he interrupts, with a slight air of brusqueness. "I should like," she answers, with a very becoming blush, "that you should have that salary, Vane. It would only be fair, seeing that the whole property would have been yours but for my foolish, deeply repented error. "Thank you, you are very kind," Vane replies, with grim brevity. "Do you think so?" she asks, simply, then with an anxious look into his unmoved face, she continues: "Will you be kinder still, Vane, and permit me to offer this salve to my accusing conscience?" "If only I were not so busy," Vane says, with artful reluctance. "Cannot you make the time? I should feel so much better over this unfortunate thing," she says, lifting her blue, pleading eyes to his face.