"Hungry for food I am," he says, "but I have another kind of hunger upon me which makes me regardless of that." "Indeed!" she exclaims, with a pretty gesture of surprise. "Nelly, you are merciless. You see that I am starving of love for you, and you systematically----" She stays to hear no more, and gliding from him, passes into the house. But he, stung by her avoidance of him, steps swiftly after her, and before she is aware of his presence, stands with her in the sick chamber, where Lady Temple lies sleeping. Within this man is working the instinct of our common nature. The more difficult to win becomes the prize--without question of its worth: the measure of difficulty gauges that--the more ardent is he in its pursuit, and the greater value it assumes. And being piqued in this instance, all the forces of his intellect come to his aid. And Nelly? Well, loving him already, she loves him the more because of his persistence, and because of the value he by his recklessness appears to place upon her. "O Mr. Temple," she whispers, deeply agitated, "how can you so compromise me? Go, for Heaven's sake, before she wakes!' "On one condition," he answers, lowering his voice to the pitch of hers; "that you meet me by the brook in an hour from this." "Anything--anything!--but go!" "You promise, then?" "Yes, yes--I promise." He is about to seal the promise, she being at his mercy, when Lady Temple moves restlessly, and opens her eyes. He has barely time to slip behind the curtains at the head of the bed before the sick lady speaks. "Is that you, Miss Marston?" "Yes, Lady Temple." "I thought I heard voices!" "I have this moment come in." "I went to sleep without taking my medicine, Miss Marston. Why did you let me go to sleep without it?" "You fell asleep suddenly, Lady Temple, and I thought it best not to wake you." "Give it to me now." Nelly takes a bottle from a table at the head of the bed, pours out the medicine, and gives it to the sick lady. As she replaces the bottle, Mr. Temple, with unthinking and cruel audacity, seizes her hand, and kisses it. Lady Temple, with the medicine at her lips does not drink, but gazes suspiciously at Nelly, who cannot keep the colour from her cheeks. "What sound is that?" asks Lady Temple. "What makes your face so red, Miss Marston?" Nelly busies herself--her hand being released--about the pillows, and replies: "You should not gaze at me so strangely. You are full of fancies to-night, Lady Temple." "Maybe, maybe. Hold up the candle, so that I may see the room--higher, higher!" Her inquisitive eyes peer before her, but she sees nothing to verify her suspicions, Mr. Temple being safely concealed behind the curtains.