Fate was kind; at Yalding it had almost always been kind. The glow of red firelight shone out over the snow through the French window among the brown jasmine stalks. Mrs Sheepmarsh was out, Miss Sheepmarsh was at home. Would he step this way? He stepped into the presence of the girl. She rose from the low chair by the fire, and the honest eyes looked angrily at him. "Look here," he said, as the door closed between them and the maid-servant, "I've come to tell you things. Just this once let me talk to you; and afterwards, if you like, I can go away and never come back." "Sit down," she said coldly. "I don't feel friends with you at all, but if you want to speak, I suppose you must." So then he told her everything, beginning with his brother's letter, and ending with his brother's letter. "And, of course, I thought it couldn't be you, because of your being called Celia; and when I found out it really was you, I had to go away, because I wanted to be fair to the boy. But now I've come back." "I think you're the meanest person I ever knew," she said; "you thought I liked your brother, and you tried to make me like you so that you might throw me over and show him how worthless I was. I hate you and despise you." "I didn't really try," he said miserably. "And you took a false name to deceive us." "I didn't: it really is my second name." "And you came here pretending to be nice and a gentleman, and----" She was lashing herself to rage, with the lash of her own voice, as women will. John Selborne stood up suddenly. "Be quiet," he said, and she was quiet. "I won't hear any more reproaches, unless---- Listen, I've done wrong--I've owned it. I've suffered for it. God knows I've suffered. You liked me in the summer: can't you try to like me again? I want you more than anything else in the world. Will you marry me?" "Marry you," she cried scornfully; "you who----" "Pardon me," he said. "I have asked a question. Give me no for an answer, and I will go. Say yes, and then you may say anything else you like. Yes or no. Shall I go or stay? Yes or no. No other word will do." She looked at him, her head thrown back, her eyes flashing with indignation. A world of scorn showed in the angle of the chin, the poise of her head. Her lips opened. Then suddenly her eyes met his, and she knew that he meant what he said. She covered her face with her hands. "Don't--don't cry, dear one," he said. "What is it? You've only to choose. Everything is for you to decide." Still she did not speak. "Good-bye, then," he said, and turned. But she caught at him blindly. "Don't--don't go!" she cried. "I didn't think I cared about you in the summer, but since you went away, oh, you don't know how I've wanted you!" * * * * * "Well," he said, when her tears were dried, "aren't you going to scold me?" "Don't!" said she. "At least tell me all about my brother--and why he thought you would be so ready to marry him."