"Indeed you have! Few women would have been capable of such self-sacrifice on a friend's behalf. You know the law of human nature; we always make old kindness a reason for demanding new. Again I am come to ask your help, and again it involves heroism on your part." The listener's face grew troubled; her lips lost their suavity. Lashmar's eyes fell before her look. "I feel ashamed," he went on, with an uneasy movement of his hands. "It's too bad to expect so much of you. You have more pride than most people, yet I behave to you as if you didn't know the meaning of the word. Do, I beg, believe me when I say that I am downright ashamed, and that I hardly know how to tell you what has happened." Constance did not open her lips; they were sternly compressed. "I want you," Dyce continued, "first of all to consent to the termination of our formal engagement. Of course," he hastened to add, "that step in itself is nothing to you. Indeed, you will be rather glad of it than otherwise; it relieves you from an annoying and embarrassing situation, which only your great good-nature induced you to accept. But I ask more than that. I want it to be understood that our engagement had ended when I last left Rivenoak. Can you consent to this? Will you bear me out when I break the news to Lady Ogram?" "You propose to do that yourself?" asked Constance, with frigid sarcasm. "Yes, I shall do it myself. I am alone responsible for what has happened, and I must face the consequences." "Up to a certain point, you mean," remarked the same pungent voice. "It's true, I ask your help in that one particular." "You say that something has happened. Is it within my privilege to ask what, or must I be content to know nothing more?" "Constance, don't speak like that?" pleaded Dyce. "Be generous to the end! Haven't I behaved very frankly all along? Haven't we talked with perfect openness of all I did? Don't spoil it all, now at the critical moment of my career. Be yourself, generous and large-minded!" "Give me the opportunity," she answered, with an acid smile. "Tell what you have to tell." "But this is not like yourself," he remonstrated. "It's a new spirit. I have never known you like this." Constance moved her foot, and spoke sharply. "Say what you have to say, and never mind anything else." Lashmar bent his brows. "After all, Constance, I am a perfectly free man. If you are annoyed because I wish to put an end to what you yourself recognise as a mere pretence, it's very unreasonable, and quite unworthy of you." "You are right," answered the other, with sudden change to ostentatious indifference. "It's time the farce stopped. I, for one, have had enough of it. If you like, I will tell Lady Ogram myself, this morning." "No!" exclaimed Dyce, with decision. "That I certainly do _not_ wish. Are you resolved, all at once, to do me as much harm as you can?" "Not at all, I thought I should relieve you of a disagreeable business."