"He has let you come here." "Just because your mother is _Lady_ Rylton!" says the girl, with infinite scorn. She looks straight at him. "My uncle is ashamed because we are nobodies--because his father earned his money by trade. He hates everyone because of that. My father," proudly, "was above it all." "I think I should like to have known your father," says Rylton, admiring the pride in her gray eyes. "It would have done you good," returns she thoughtfully. She pauses, as if still thinking, and then, "As for me, I have not been good at all since I lost him." "One can see that," says Rylton. "Crime sits rampant in your eyes." At this she laughs too; but presently she stops short, and turns to him. "It is all very well for you to laugh!" says she ruefully. "You have not to go home next week to live again with Uncle George!" "I begin to hate Uncle George!" says Rylton. "You see how you are demoralizing me! But, surely, if you cannot live in peace with him, there must be others--other relations--who would be glad to chaperone you!" "No," says the girl, shaking her head sadly. "For one thing, I have _no_ relations--at least, none who could look after me; and, for another, by my father's will, I must stay with Uncle George until my marriage." "Until your marriage!" Sir Maurice laughs. "Forgive me! I should not have laughed," says he, "especially as your emancipation seems a long way off." Really, looking at her in the subdued lights of those pink lamps, she seems a mere baby. "I don't see why it _should_ be so far off," says Tita, evidently affronted. "Lots of girls get married at seventeen; I've heard of people who were married at sixteen! But _they_ must have been fools. No? I don't want to be married, though, if I did, I should be able to get rid of Uncle George. But what I should like to do would be to run away!" "Where?" asks Rylton, rather abominably, it must be confessed. "Oh, I don't know," confusedly. "I haven't thought it out." "Well, _don't,"_ says he kindly. "That is what everyone would say," impatiently. "In the meantime, I _cannot go_ on living with my uncle. No; I can't." She leans back, and, flinging her arms behind her neck, looks with a little laughing pout at Rylton. "Some day I shall do something dreadful," says she. She is charming, posing so. Rylton looks at her. How pretty she is! How guileless! How far removed from worldly considerations! His affair with Marian is at an end. Never to be renewed! That is settled. He had given her a last word, and she had spurned it. After all, why should he _not _marry this charming child? The marriage would please his mother, and restore the old name to something of its ancient grandeur. And as for himself--why, it matters nothing to him. "It is all over. It is all over." Again that teasing voice in his ear.