"The bank is so steep," said Livingston softly. "Here, give me your hand and I will pull you up." She took a quick step upward, then stopped just below him and looked at him intently. "God in heaven," she said wildly to herself, "I swear they shall not harm a hair of your head! I'll tear the heart out of every man of them that comes near you! I'll kill them all, the hounds, the sneaks, the low vermin!" She looked at him an instant so, then laughed--an odd, mirthless, reverberant laugh, that echoed on the hills above. "Come, let me help you," he urged gently, reaching down his hand to her. She laughed again, this time softly, more naturally. "My _lord_," she said with grave emphasis, "you honor me! I am overwhelmed for the instant. Forgive my rudeness!" "You have heard," he exclaimed regretfully. "Your friend has told you--I am so sorry! But then it really doesn't make any difference--only I thought you might like me better if you didn't know it." "Oh, my lord," she laughed mockingly. "I must needs _adore_ you now!" "Stop your fooling," he exclaimed impatiently. "And give me your hand and I'll pull you up here." With a sudden movement he stepped down toward her, grasping her hand firmly, drawing her up beside him on the bank. She looked at him in some surprise. "I always had an idea," she said, "that you were a very mild-mannered young man." "But you've given me a title that I didn't want--you've put me out of humor, and now you must take the consequences," he said. "I tried to make you angry. Why aren't you?" said Hope seriously. "Angry with you!" he exclaimed softly. "With you, my girl! Look at me closely--in my eyes and see the reason!" He stood beside her. His hand grasped hers, his powerful magnetism drew her until her cheeks flamed, but not the flicker of downcast eyelids betrayed more than the faintest, friendliest indifference. "Come on," she said, turning abruptly toward the tent, "I'm starved for my supper!" CHAPTER XXVI "You bad girl," cried Clarice Van Rensselaer from the table, "why did you run away? See this nice dinner spoiling for you! I've regained my good nature, which is lucky for you, but you'll have to give an account of yourself. Actually, I had to send Mr. Livingston to look you up!" She glanced with a well-bred look of quizzical amusement from Hope's brilliant, flushed face to the man who accompanied her. "Well, you see that I for one didn't wait for you," she concluded; "couldn't! I don't think I ever was so hungry before in my whole life. Everything tastes _perfectly_ delicious!" "William has outdone himself this time," remarked Sydney, as the girl drew up an empty box and seated herself at the table, taking a little food upon her plate and making a pretense of eating. Everything tasted like wood. She could scarcely swallow. It finally occurred to her that she must be acting very unlike herself. She made a violent effort to appear natural, succeeding fairly well.