"Beautiful fiend!"--but he hesitated--He was no coward, and cared not a jot for her threats, only his fastidiousness was assailed by the thought of a struggling, fighting woman in his embrace, when he had come there for--Love! It would be wiser, perhaps, to cajole her. He was too intoxicated with passion to realise that it would also seem more dignified! "Katherine, do not be so horribly unkind, darling girl! I love you wildly, I tell you, and I want you to be mine." "What for?" She was perfectly calm still, and never moved from her place. "That we may be happy, you sweet thing. I want to hold you in my arms and caress you, and make us both forget that there is anything else in the whole wide world but our own two selves!" And exalted by this enchanting picture, he drew a little closer and held out his hands. "I tell you plainly--if you come one step nearer to me, you do so at your own risk. I will tear the flesh from your face with my nails, and strangle you." Her voice was absolutely deadly in its icy intentness. "I am not weak, and I despise your mean action in coming here to-night too greatly to have any fear." The breeding in him responded to this sting. "My mean action--!" but his voice faltered a little, and she interrupted him before he could argue further. "Yes--I am a dependent in your aunt's house here, earning my living, and you chance my being disgraced and sent away for your own shamefully selfish ends. Indeed, you are teaching me the lesson of the depth to which an aristocrat can sink." He drew back, and some of the fire died out of him. Her words cut him like a knife, but he was too overwrought with emotion yet to give in and leave her. "Katherine--my darlings--forgive me!" he cried, brokenly. "I admit I am mad with love, but you shall never suffer for it--give yourself to me, and I will take you away from all drudgery. You shall have a house where you like. I will protect you and teach you all you desire to know. You shall lead an intellectual life worthy of your brain. We can travel in Italy and France, and I shall worship and adore you--Katherine, my sweet!" The tones of his cultivated voice vibrated with deep feeling, and he looked all that was attractive as he stood there in his faultless evening clothes, pleading to her as though he were but a humble suppliant for grace, and she a queen. But Katherine was not in the least touched, although her awakened critical faculties realised fully the agreeable companion he would probably make as a lover, with his knowledge of the world, and his polished homage to women. There was something fierce and savagely primitive at this moment in her faithfulness to Algy. For all the strongly sensuous side of her nature, any other man's caresses appeared revolting to her. It was _the man_, not _men_, who could arouse her passionate sensibility. "You ask me to be your mistress, then--is that it?" her voice was coldly level, like one discussing a business proposition.