Leon Dudleigh was away now, but would probably be back before long. As she had failed with Wiggins, only one thing remained, and that was to see Leon. She was resolved to meet him at once on his arrival, and fight out once for all that battle which was inevitable between herself and him. * * * * * CHAPTER XXXI. THE IRREPRESSIBLE STRUGGLE. About a month passed away, during which time Edith, in spite of her troubles, grew stronger every day. Youth and a good, constitution were on her side, and enabled her to rally rapidly from the prostration to which she had been subjected. At length one morning she learned that Leon had arrived at the Hall. This news gave her great satisfaction, for she had been waiting long, and felt anxious to see him face to face, to tell him her own mind, and gather from him, if possible, what his intentions were. An interview with him under such peculiar circumstances might have been painful had she been less courageous or less self-possessed; but to one with such lofty pride as hers, and filled as she was with such scorn of Leon, and convinced as she was that he was at heart an arrant coward, such an interview had nothing in it to deter her. Suspense was worse. She wished to meet that man. She sent word to him that she wished to see him, after which she went down to the drawing-room and waited. Leon certainly showed no haste, for it was as much as an hour before he made his appearance. On entering he assumed that languid air which he had adopted on some of his former visits. He looked carelessly at her, and then threw himself into a chair. “Really, Mrs. Dudleigh,” said he, “this is an unexpected pleasure. 'Pon my life, I had no idea that you would volunteer to do me so much honor!” “I am not Mrs. Dudleigh,” said Edith, “as you very well know. I am Miss Dalton, and if you expect me to have any thing to say to you, you must call me by my proper name. You will suffer dearly enough yet for your crimes, and have no need to add to them.” “Now, my dear,” said Leon, “that is kind and wife-like, and all that. It reminds me of the way in which wives sometimes speak in the plays.” “Speak to me as Miss Dalton, or you shall not speak to me at all.” “It's quite evident,” said Leon, with a sneer, “that you don't know into whose hands you've fallen.” “On the contrary,” said Edith, contemptuously, “it has been my fortune, or my misfortune, to understand from the first both you and Wiggins.” Leon gave a light laugh. “Your temper,” said he, “has not improved much, at any rate. That's quite evident. You have always shown a very peculiar idea of the way in which a lady should speak to a gentleman.” “One would suppose by that,” said Edith, “that you actually meant to hint that you considered yourself a gentleman.” “So I am,” said Leon, haughtily.