‘I have told you already. I know I shall have property,’ said Helena, trying to speak with lofty indifference, but all the same, not unaware that the young man’s eyes were fixed upon her face, and with her own wavering as she went on with the speech which she had uttered many a time before, and which now struck her for the first time as falling somewhat flat, and not being quite equal to the occasion. Other young men had looked at her, and said they were sure she didn’t mean it, and it was too cruel of her, and other ‘vacant chaff’ of the same description. Sebastian only looked at her gravely, calmly, as it seemed to her, almost pityingly, and in perfect silence. The glance stung and galled her. She would not be deterred by that look. What was Sebastian Mallory but a man--a thoughtless young man, who had dared to laugh at her views? ‘And property entails responsibilities,’ she continued. ‘It certainly does.’ ‘I shall therefore never marry,’ said Helena, courageously, though her face burned, and she wished intensely that she had never insisted upon the discussion. ‘I shall look after my own affairs, and arrange them according to my own judgment. I will be free, and nobody’s servant.’ ‘A very wise resolution; provided, first, that you keep it; and second, that you feel equal to disposing judiciously of a large property.’ ‘I have no doubt about _that_,’ said she, with a lofty smile, still not raising her eyes, and very angry with herself for not being able to do so. Sebastian smiled, and the smile made Helena feel hot and uncomfortable. ‘I hope,’ said he, with extreme politeness, ‘that you will feel the satisfaction which should be the reward of such high motives.’ Helena flushed again. She had argued the point more than once with different people, and without this feeling of embarrassment. Why was she embarrassed now? What would that ‘nicest girl’ he ever knew think, if she were here? Had she money? He had said she had been brought up in the school of adversity. That reminded Helena of another point in the argument, which she ought to have advanced long ago. She was dimly conscious of a kind of bathos as she said, ‘I don’t believe in useless fine ladies, you know, all the same. I think women ought to be able to earn their own living, if necessary. They ought to be able to be quite independent of men, if they choose.’ ‘Do you think they ever would choose?’ he asked with a suppressed smile. ‘I know this, that I would rather earn fourpence a day as a needle-woman, than depend upon any man!’ said Helena, hotly and indignantly. ‘And I could always do that.’ ‘In that case I congratulate you,’ he retorted ironically. ‘You are superior to all calamities and misfortunes. I wish I could feel myself equally secure.’ ‘You have not argued a single point,’ said Helena with passion. ‘I shall never be at the trouble to talk seriously to you again.’ ‘If you will only talk to me at all, I shall be delighted.’