“Why have you done this for her?” he demanded, “secretly, too, you a man to whom a good action is a matter for a sneer, who have deliberately proclaimed yourself an evil-doer by choice and destiny? Why have you constituted yourself her guardian? Not from kindness for you don’t know what it is; not from good nature for you haven’t any. Why, then?” Wingrave shrugged his shoulders. “I admit,” he remarked coolly, “that it does seem rather a problem; we all do unaccountable things at times, though.” “For your own sake,” Aynesworth said fiercely, “I trust that this is one of the unaccountable things. For the rest, you shall have no other chance. I shall take her to Truro tonight.” “Are you sure that she will go?” “I shall tell her the truth.” “And if she does not believe you?” “She will! If you interfere, I shall take her by force.” “I interfere!” Wingrave remarked. “You need not be afraid of that. The affair as it stands is far too interesting. Call her, and make your appeal.” “I shall tell her the truth,” Aynesworth declared. “By all means! I shall remain and listen to my indictment. Quite a novel sensation! Call the young lady, by all means, and don’t spare me.” Aynesworth moved a few steps up the path. He called to her softly, and she came through the little iron gates from the rose gardens. She was very pale, and there was a gleam in her eyes which was like fear. Aynesworth took her by the hand and led her forward. “You must be brave, dear,” he whispered. “I am compelled to say some disagreeable things. It is for your good. It is because I care for you so much.” She looked towards Wingrave. He was sitting upon the garden seat, and his face was absolutely expressionless. He spoke to her, and his cold, precise tone betrayed not the slightest sign of any emotion. “Aynesworth,” he remarked, “is going to tell you some interesting facts about myself. Please listen attentively as afterwards you will be called upon to make a somewhat important decision.” She looked at him a little wistfully and sighed. There was no trace any longer of her companion of the last few weeks. It was the stern and gloomy stranger of her earlier recollections who sat there with folded arms. “Is it really necessary?” she asked. “Absolutely,” Aynesworth answered hurriedly. “It won’t take long, but there are things which you must know.” “Very well,” she answered, “I am listening.” Aynesworth inclined his head towards the place where Wingrave sat.