"Maisrie," said he, "why don’t you put up that furred collar round your neck? It is so cold this morning. See, let me put it up for you." She retreated an inch, declining: she waited for him to answer her question. "Angry with you?" he said, with obvious constraint. "No, but I was vexed. I was vexed with a lot of things—that I can hardly explain. Not with you personally—at least—well, at any rate I did not mean to offend you. If I have offended you I ask your pardon——" Here he paused: these stammering sentences were so insufficient. And then all at once he said—— "Maisrie, who was that young man?" She looked surprised. "Do you mean Mr. Glover?" "Glover?—oh, that is his name. But who is he?—what is he?—how did you come to know him so intimately?——" Perhaps she began to see a little. "I don’t know him at all, Vincent. He is a friend of my grandfather’s—or rather he is the son of a friend of my grandfather’s—a wine-merchant in London. We met him on the day we came here——" "And he lost no time in showing off his acquaintance with you," said Vincent, bitterly, "—driving you up and down the King’s Road, before all Brighton!" At this she lowered her head a little. "I did not wish to go, Vincent. Grandfather pressed me. I did not like to refuse." "Oh," said he, "I have no right to object. It is not for me to object. If new friends are to be treated as old friends—what does it matter?" She regarded him reproachfully. "You know very well, Vincent, that if I had thought it would vex you, I would not have gone—no—nothing in the world would have induced me—nothing! And how cruel it is of you to speak of new friends—and to say that old friends are so quickly forgotten! Is that all you believe of what I have told you many a time? But—but if I have pained you, I am sorry," she continued, still with downcast lashes. "Tell me what you wish me to do. I will not speak to him again, if you would rather I should not. If he comes to the house, I will stay in my own room until he is gone—anything, anything rather than that you should be vexed. For you have been so kind to me!" "No, no," said he, hastily. "No, I have been altogether wrong. Do just as you please yourself, Maisrie: that will be the right thing. I have been an ass and a fool to doubt you. But—but it made me mad to think of any man coming between you and me——" "Vincent!" She raised her head; and for one ineffable moment her maiden eyes were unveiled and fixed upon him—with such a tenderness and pride and trust as altogether bewildered him and entranced him beyond the powers of speech. For here was confession at last!—her soul had declared itself: no matter what might happen now, he knew she was his own! And yet, when she spoke, it was as if she had divined his thoughts, and would dissipate that too wonderful dream.