"It's no use worrying now." "One can't altogether help it. Why hadn't you a better sense of your value? I'd have married you; I'd have lived for you, and I swear I'd have made you happy." "I know you would," she assented. "And now I find you like this." "I'll be going back now." "I'll turn with you if I may." "You'll be late." "I'll chance that," he laughed. "Months before I met you at Mrs Hamilton's, I heard about you from Devitt." "What did he say?" "It was just before you were going down to see him, from some school you were at, about taking a governess's billet. He told me of this, and I sent you a message." "I never had it." "Not really?" "A fact. What was it?" "I said that my people and myself were no end of keen on seeing you again and that we wanted you to come down and stay." "You told him that?" "One day in the market-place at Melkbridge. Afterwards, I often asked about you, if he knew your address and all that; but I never got anything out of him." "But he knew all the time where I was. I don't understand." "Little Mavis is very young." "That's right: insult me," she laughed. "Those sort of people with a marriageable daughter aren't going to handicap their chances by having sweet Mavis about the house." "People aren't really like that!" "Not a bit; they're as artless as you. My dear little Mavis, one 'ud think you'd never left the nursery." "But I have." "Curse it, you have! Why did you? Oh! why did you?" "Do as I've done?" "Yes. Why did you?" "I loved him." "Eh?" "The only possible reason--I loved him." "And if you'd loved me, you'd have done the same for me?" "If you'd asked me." "For me? For me?" "If I loved you, and if you asked me." "But that's just it. If a chap truly loves a girl, he'd rather die than injure a hair of her head. And if you loved me, my one idea would be to protect my darling little Mavis from all harm. Why---" He stopped. Mavis's face was drawn as if she were in great pain. "What's the matter?" he asked. "How dare you? Oh, how dare you?" "Dare I what?" he asked, much perplexed at her sudden anger. "Insult the man I love. If what you say is true, it would mean he didn't truly love me. You lie! I tell you he does! You lie--you lie!" "You're right," assented Windebank sadly, after a moment's thought. "You're quite right. I made a mistake. I ask everyone's pardon. How could any man fail to appreciate you?"