“Oh, no,” replied she carelessly. “I'm not in the least offended. Prejudices always interest me.” I saw Ellersly and his wife sitting in the drawing-room, pretending to talk to each other. I understood that they were leaving me alone with her deliberately, and I began to suspect she was in the plot. I smiled, and my courage and self-possession returned as summarily as they had fled. “I'm glad of this chance to get better acquainted with you,” said I. “I've wanted it ever since I first saw you.” As I put this to her directly, she dropped her eyes and murmured something she probably wished me to think vaguely pleasant. “You are the first woman I ever knew,” I went on, “with whom it was hard for me to get on any sort of terms. I suppose it's my fault. I don't know this game yet. But I'll learn it, if you'll be a little patient; and when I do, I think I'll be able to keep up my end.” She looked at me--just looked. I couldn't begin to guess what was going on in that gracefully-poised head of hers. “Will you try to be friends with me?” said I with directness. She continued to look at me in that same steady, puzzling way. “Will you?” I repeated. “I have no choice,” said she slowly. I flushed. “What does that mean?” I demanded. She threw a hurried and, it seemed to me, frightened glance toward the drawing-room. “I didn't intend to offend you,” she said in a low voice. “You have been such a good friend to papa--I've no right to feel anything but friendship for you.” “I'm glad to hear you say that,” said I. And I was; for those words of hers were the first expression of appreciation and gratitude I had ever got from any member of that family which I was holding up from ruin. I put out my hand, and she laid hers in it. “There isn't anything I wouldn't do to earn your friendship, Miss Anita,” I said, holding her hand tightly, feeling how lifeless it was, yet feeling, too, as if a flaming torch were being borne through me, were lighting a fire in every vein. The scarlet poured into her face and neck, wave on wave, until I thought it would never cease to come. She snatched her hand away and from her face streamed proud resentment. God, how I loved her at that moment! “Anita! Mr. Blacklock!” came from the other room, in her mother's voice. “Come in here and save us old people from boring each other to sleep.”