The manner and the tone were such that Sebastian felt he could not, after what he had said, urge his offer any farther. But the desire which he constantly felt when with Myles, to gain his esteem and win his confidence, rushed more strongly over him than ever before. He saw in the young man so much that was noble, so much that was good, so much that he, in his quiet, reserved way, intensely prized. Sebastian had a strong, though secret, desire to be much loved, to greatly influence certain individuals. He felt very strongly that where Myles Heywood loved or admired, it would be with a passionate whole-hearted devotion, which would go all lengths; and he desired greatly to see some other expression light those sombre, moody eyes, when they looked at him; to compel that right hand to stretch itself towards him in a genial, spontaneous clasp of friendship and regard. Was it possible that he who before now had won hearts, both of men and of women; he who had inspired that fitful, capricious artist-Hugo with a passionate love and devotion; he who had seen Adrienne Blisset’s quiet eyes well over with something more than gratitude; he who felt within him the potentiality to subdue that fiery-hearted Helena, did he but choose to give his mind to the task, and to bring her to his feet with a devotion as intense as her present half-assumed scorn--was it possible that he was to be baffled by a young, uncultivated, untutored, unsophisticated artisan, who could continue to resist, defy, and scorn him, in spite of all his efforts to the contrary? Was it possible that this plain-spoken Myles Heywood, with nothing on his side but his prejudices, his pride, and his love, could continue to hold Sebastian Mallory at arm’s length, when he really set his whole battery of persuasion to work upon him? The idea was a galling one. He did not like effusiveness, but he did like devotion very much. He hated a display of power; but the power itself he loved dearly. Myles, in his present attitude, represented a defiant obstacle which must be overcome. But how? Mary here afforded him unconsciously a little assistance, by saying in a tearful voice, ‘Eh, Myles, think about it! Remember how badly off we are. It’s not for mysel’, it’s for Edmund and thee. I canna bear to think o’ thee bein’ so pulled down and troubled wi’ such things. Thou’rt too good for it.’ ‘Molly, lass, don’t make it worse for me!’ said Myles, with a reproachful look; and Mary was silenced, as Sebastian saw. She sat down in a rocking-chair, and cried quietly, wiping her eyes at intervals, but she said no more. Myles turned his back upon her, not wishing to see her distress. Sebastian had also stood up. The man’s pride was stiffer than even he had supposed, and his desire to bend it became proportionately greater. ‘I am very sorry you will not let me do anything,’ he said. ‘You are quite mistaken in thinking there could be any degradation in it.’ ‘I never said I did think so,’ interposed Myles.