He was not used to dealing with women of her class, and though he was ready to bully or bluster, he found nothing in her self-possessed, impersonal manner which he could take hold of. Besides, he reflected, it was far better not to frighten her. If he did, she might produce lawyers, or such other undesired persons, to take part in the proceedings. He knew, far better than she, the flimsiness of his own claims. He was not the girl's legal guardian, and never had been. A moral claim was all that he could urge, joined to a cunning by means of which he hoped to attain his end, for he was convinced that it would be well worth his while to get hold of Rona. She had grown into just such a woman as he had foreseen. He did not feel any doubt of being able, with little difficulty, to reconcile her to the way of life he had in view for her, when once she realized her own power, and what a splendid time she could have if she were but sensible. But he knew well that the tactics he had formerly adopted were woefully mistaken. Of all things now, he must not scare her. As his mind flew rapidly over his intended course, he felt that he could not do better than accept this dinner invitation. He helped the two ladies into the carriage, little dreaming how the heart of the haughty-looking Miss Rawson was knocking against her side. "If you would kindly give me the address," he said. Miss Rawson was seated in the victoria. She opened her card-case. "Home," said she to the coachman, in the act of handing the card to Mr. Leigh, with a bow and a condescending smile. The man touched his hat, and started. They glided away, leaving Mr. Leigh staring fixedly at the card, with a face suddenly crimson.