“Look here,” he said, “there’s no need to quarrel, you know. I don’t want to break my promise; but what can I do? I’m not the eldest son. I’m dependent on my father for every farthing I have; and I’m on bad terms with him already. Can’t you see it yourself? You’re a lady, and all that, I know. But you’re only a governess. It’s your interest as well as mine to wait till my father has provided for me. Here it is in a nut-shell: if I marry you now, I’m a ruined man.” The answer came, this time. “You villain if you _don’t_ marry me, I am a ruined woman!” “What do you mean?” “You know what I mean. Don’t look at me in that way.” “How do you expect me to look at a woman who calls me a villain to my face?” She suddenly changed her tone. The savage element in humanity--let the modern optimists who doubt its existence look at any uncultivated man (no matter how muscular), woman (no matter how beautiful), or child (no matter how young)--began to show itself furtively in his eyes, to utter itself furtively in his voice. Was he to blame for the manner in which he looked at her and spoke to her? Not he! What had there been in the training of _his_ life (at school or at college) to soften and subdue the savage element in him? About as much as there had been in the training of his ancestors (without the school or the college) five hundred years since. It was plain that one of them must give way. The woman had the most at stake--and the woman set the example of submission. “Don’t be hard on me,” she pleaded. “I don’t mean to be hard on _you._ My temper gets the better of me. You know my temper. I am sorry I forgot myself. Geoffrey, my whole future is in your hands. Will you do me justice?” She came nearer, and laid her hand persuasively on his arm. “Haven’t you a word to say to me? No answer? Not even a look?” She waited a moment more. A marked change came over her. She turned slowly to leave the summer-house. “I am sorry to have troubled you, Mr. Delamayn. I won’t detain you any longer.” He looked at her. There was a tone in her voice that he had never heard before. There was a light in her eyes that he had never seen in them before. Suddenly and fiercely he reached out his hand, and stopped her. “Where are you going?” he asked. She answered, looking him straight in the face, “Where many a miserable woman has gone before me. Out of the world.” He drew her nearer to him, and eyed her closely. Even _his_ intelligence discovered that he had brought her to bay, and that she really meant it! “Do you mean you will destroy yourself?” he said. “Yes. I mean I will destroy myself.” He dropped her arm. “By Jupiter, she _does_ mean it!”