Don Giovanni himself would have turned restive when advised to alter his style of love-making, and Captain Sargent's waxen face grew red with wrath. He was a bloodless person, so his anger was more like that of a fretful child than that of a man. Lesbia looked at him with a contempt which he found hard to bear. She wanted a man to master her as all women do, and she saw that this wooer could never dominate. "You are very unkind, Lesbia," was all that Sargent could find to say. "In that case, why not leave me and go back to my father?" "Because I came from your father. He wants you to marry me. I want it also. Come," he went on coaxingly, "be my wife, Lesbia, and you shall have everything that the world can give you." "I daresay. Everything but a husband." "I shall be your husband." "You!" she looked him up and down until he reddened to the roots of his straw-coloured hair. "I would rather be excused." "You won't marry me." "Certainly not." Sargent grew childish with rage. "If you do not there will be trouble. I can ruin that man you love--that bounder Walker!" "He is not a bounder; he is a man, and it will take a stronger man than you, Captain Sargent, to harm him." "But I _can_ harm him, and I shall do so," cried the captain, and his delicate face took on an expression of cunning. Weak as he was, Lesbia could see that wounded vanity might make him dangerous. "This burglary----" "What do you know about it?" demanded Lesbia imperiously. "Walker is guilty. Miss Ellis says so." "For her own ends she says so, and you act in the same way. She wants to marry George, and you want to marry me. It won't do, Captain Sargent. Things are not to be settled in that fashion. You had better," she laughed, "marry Miss Ellis yourself." "I love you; I want to marry you." "I am sorry," said Lesbia sedately, "but I decline." "For your father's sake," urged Sargent weakly, angry, and looking more dangerously cunning than ever. "I can harm him also. I can----" He saw from the startled expression on the girl's face that he was saying too much, and abruptly turned on his heel. "I shall come for my answer to-morrow, Lesbia," he called out, as he walked swiftly towards the house. The girl remained where she was, wondering what this new threat meant. She could understand how he could support her father and Maud in harming George, but it was difficult to understand how he could harm Mr. Hale. In a flash the old unrest came over Lesbia, and she again pondered her father's unaccountable secrecy, and recalled his shady acquaintances. Then again, there was Canning, who was a gentleman and had been to school with Mr. Hale, only to degenerate into Sargent's valet. It was all very singular and somewhat startling, and Lesbia puzzled over it hopelessly, until she was aroused from a somewhat painful brown study by a low whistle.