"There are two sides to every question, Mr Maplestone. If I chose to go into details, I might convince you that Mrs Fane and I have our own claims, which seem to us equally strong." He leapt from his seat, and advanced until he stood directly facing my chair. "That finishes it! It is no use appealing to your feelings. Let us make it pure business then! I offer you a hundred pounds down for the reversion of the lease!" So it had come to this. Bribery undisguised! I lowered my eyelids, and sat silent, an image of outraged dignity. "You refuse! It is not enough? Two hundred then! Three!" Still silence. But my listening ears caught a threatening rustle behind the screen. "Three hundred! It is a good offer. You are not bound to this neighbourhood. You can find other houses to suit you. Still not enough? Name your own terms then. How much will you take?" "A million pounds!" The words leapt out of my mouth as it seemed of their own volition. I was tired of this farcical bargaining, and determined to put an end to it, once for all. I stood up and faced his blank stare of amazement, without at least any outward shrinking. "Surely it is useless to prolong this bargaining. It is very unpleasant and humiliating." Mr Maplestone set his square jaw. "You are only one partner to this transaction. Mrs Fane is probably your senior. If I were to see her, she might be induced to name a more--er--shall I say reasonable (oh, the cutting sarcasm of that tone!) figure." "_Two_ millions." The high clear tone struck across the room. Mr Maplestone wheeled round and beheld Charmion standing just outside the opening of the screen, one hand raised to rest lightly on the curved wood coping. She might have posed as a picture of graceful, imperturbed ease, so calm, so smiling, so absolutely unflurried and detached in both manner and bearing did she appear. Mr Maplestone looked at her and--this was a curious thing--at one glance realised his defeat. All my efforts at dignity and firmness had failed to convince him, but behind Charmion's frail, essentially feminine exterior, those keen eyes had at once detected that strain of inflexibility which I was only slowly beginning to realise. It was hopeless to bandy words. The Squire knew as much, and turned to the table to lift his hat and whip. He gave a short scornful laugh. "The terms seem a trifle--high! I am afraid I must retire from the bidding. Pastimes is yours. I hope"--he looked from me to Charmion, and his expression was not pleasant to see--"I hope you may not have cause to repent your bargain!" We bowed. He bowed. The door opened and shut. Charmion looked at me and shrugged her shoulders. "A declaration of war! We have begun our campaign by quarrelling with the most `influential gentleman in these parts!' Things are getting exciting, Evelyn!"