"Dear little goose, you will not die!" he said--"For heaven's sake have done with all this sentimental talk!--I am not a man who can tolerate it. You are such a pleasant creature when you are cheerful and self-possessed,--so bright and clever and companionable--and there is no reason why we shouldn't make love to each other again as often as we like,--but change and novelty are good for both of us. Come!--kiss me!--be a good child--and let us part friends!" He approached her,--there was a smile on his lips--a smile in which lurked a suspicion of mockery as well as victorious self-satisfaction. She saw it--and swiftly there came swooping over her brain the horrible realisation of the truth--that it was all over!--that never, never again would she be able to dwell on the amorous looks and words and love-phrases of HER "Amadis de Jocelyn!"--that no happy future was in store for her with him--that he had no interest whatever in her cherished memories of Briar Farm, and that he would never care to accept the right of dwelling there even if she secured it for him,--moreover, that he viewed her very work with indifference, and had no concern as to her name or fame--so that everything--every pretty fancy, every radiant hope, every happy possibility was at an end. Life stretched before her dreary as the dreariest desert--for her, whose nature was to love but once, there was no gleam of light in all the world's cruel darkness! A red mist swam before her eyes--black clouds seemed descending upon her and whirling round about her--she looked wildly from right to left, as though seeking to escape from some invisible pursuer. Startled at her expression Jocelyn tried to hold her--but she shook him off. She made a few unsteady steps along the floor. "What is it?" he said--"Innocent--don't stare like that!" She smiled strangely and nodded at him--she was fingering the plant of marguerite daisies that stood in its accustomed place between the easel and the wall. She plucked a flower and began hurriedly stripping off its petals. "'Il m'aime--un peu!--beaucoup--passionement--pas du tout!' Pas du tout!" she cried--"Amadis! Amadis de Jocelyn! You hear what it says? Pas du tout! You promised it should never come to that!--but it has come!" She threw away the stripped flower, ... there was a quick hot throbbing behind her temples--she put up her hands--then all suddenly a sharp involuntary scream broke from her lips. He sprang towards her to seize and silence her--she stuffed her handkerchief into her mouth. "I'm sorry!" she panted--"Forgive!--I couldn't help it!--Amadis--Amadis!--" And she flung herself against his breast. Her eyes, large and feverishly brilliant, searched his face for any sign of tenderness, and searched in vain.