'You are an idler--I have heard that from your uncle--self-indulgent, fond of trivial pleasures. Such men never succeed in life. But if you were certain to be Lord Chancellor--if you could this moment prove yourself possessed of a splendid fortune--my feelings would be unchanged. You have lied to me as no gentleman would have lied. I will own no husband who is not a gentleman.' 'You carry things with a high hand,' said Brian, with sullen wrath; and then love prevailed over anger, and he flung himself on his knees at her feet, clasping her reluctant hands, urging every impassioned argument which young lips could frame; but to all such prayers she was marble. 'You are my wife,' he pleaded; 'you are my snared bird; your wings are netted, darling. Do you think I will let you go? Yes, I was false, but it was love made me deceive you. I loved you so well that I dared not risk losing you.' 'You have lost me for ever,' she cried, breaking from him and moving towards the door; 'perhaps, had you been loyal and true, you might have taught me to love you for your own sake. Women are easier won by truth than falsehood.' 'It seems to me they are easier won by houses and lands,' answered Brian, with a sneer. And then he followed her to the door, caught her in his arms, and held her against his passionately beating heart, covering her angry face with kisses. 'Let me go!' she cried, tearing herself from his arms, with a shriek of horror; 'your kisses are poison to me. I hate you--I hate you!' He recoiled a few paces, and stood looking at her with a countenance in which the passionate love of a moment ago gave place to gloomy anger. 'So be it,' he said; 'if we cannot be friends we must be enemies. You reveal your character with an admirable candour. You did not mind marrying a man who was absolutely repulsive to you--whose kisses are poison--so long as you thought he was rich. But directly you are told he is poor you inform him of your real sentiments with a delightful frankness. Suppose this confession of mine were a hoax, and that I really were the wealthy Brian after all--playing off a practical joke to test your feelings--what a sorry figure you would cut!' 'Despicable,' said Ida, with her hand on the handle of the door. 'Yes, I know that. I despise and loathe myself as much as I despise and loathe you. I have drained the cup of poverty to the dregs, and I languished for the elixir of wealth. When you asked me to marry you, I thought Fate had thrown prosperity in my way--that it would be to lose the golden chance of a lifetime if I refused you.' 'Not much gold about it,' said Brian, lightly.