"Hester!" he broke out, "don't let's talk about this any more--it's damned nonsense! Let's talk about ourselves. Hester!--darling!--I want to make you happy!--I want to carry you away. Hester, will you marry me at once? As far as the French law is concerned, I have arranged it all. You could come with me to a certain Mairie I know, to-morrow, and we could marry without anybody having a word to say to it; and then, Hester, I'd carry you to Italy! I know a villa on the Riviera--the Italian Riviera--in a little bay all orange and lemon and blue sea. We'd honeymoon there; and when we were tired of honeymooning--though how could any one tire of honeymooning, with you, you darling!--we'd go to South America. I have an opening at Buenos Ayres which promises to make me a rich man. Come with me!--it is the most wonderful country in the world. You would be adored there--you would have every luxury--we'd travel and ride and explore--we'd have a glorious life!" He had caught her hands again, and stood towering over her, intoxicated with his own tinsel phrases; almost sincere; a splendid physical presence, save for the slight thickening of face and form, the looseness of the lips, the absence of all freshness in the eyes. But Hester, after a first moment of dreamy excitement, drew herself decidedly away. "No, no!--I can't be such a wretch--I can't! Mamma and Aunt Alice would break their hearts. I'm a selfish beast, but not quite so bad as that! No, Philip--we can meet and amuse ourselves, can't we?--and get to know each other?--and then if we want to, we can marry--some time." "That means you don't love me!" he said, fiercely. "Yes, yes, I do!--or at least I--I like you. And perhaps in time--if you let me alone--if you don't tease me--I--I'll marry you. But let's do it openly. It's amusing to get one's own way, even by lies, up to a certain point. They wouldn't let me see you, or get to know you, and I was determined to know you. So I had to behave like a little cad, or give in. But marrying's different." He argued with her hotly, pointing out the certainty of Meynell's opposition, exaggerating the legal powers of guardians, declaring vehemently that it was now or never. Hester grew very white as they wandered on through the forest, but she did not yield. Some last scruple of conscience, perhaps--some fluttering fear, possessed her. So that in the end Philip was pushed to the villainy that even he would have avoided. Suddenly he turned upon her. "Hester, you drive me to it! I don't want to--but I can't help it. Hester, you poor little darling!--you don't know what has happened--you don't know what a position you're in. I want to save you from it. I would have done it, God knows, without telling you the truth if I could; but you drive me to it!" "What on earth do you mean?"