Theodore shrugged his great shoulders and looked at Patricia. "I sometimes think that Mara is mad," he remarked impolitely; "do you understand?" "No," answered Patricia truthfully; "what does she mean?" Mara slipped off the writing-table whereon she had perched herself, and pointed one lean finger at Theodore. "I mean that he is an utterly selfish man, who strives to sweep aside all who stand in his path. By egotism he isolates himself from the Great Whole, and wishes to dwell apart in self-conscious power." She faced Dane, and in the twilight looked like a wavering shadow. "There is nothing you would not do to obtain power, and for that reason your punishment will be greater than that of others." "Why?" asked Theodore tartly, "seeing that all desire power?" "You have more Light. You know, others do not." Mara paused as though she was listening. "It is a warning," she finished solemnly, "a last chance which is given to you, who are so strong in evil might." "But, Mara----" "I have said all that I am told to say, and now I say no more," said the pale girl enigmatically, and returned to seat herself on the table and gaze into the rapidly gathering night. "What does it all mean?" asked Patricia, under her breath. "Simply that Mara doesn't like me," said Dane coolly, but Miss Carrol noticed that he wiped the perspiration from his high forehead as he spoke; "her standard is too lofty for us ever to become husband and wife. I can see plainly that Basil will marry her and inherit the property." He looked round the room with a savage expression. "To lose all this is terrible!" "But your brother will let you stay here," said Patricia consolingly. "No, he won't. Basil doesn't care for my occult studies, and he doesn't care for me. You would never think we were brothers, so different he is to me. We are Cain and Abel, Esau and Jacob, Polynices and Eteocles, and have never been friends since birth. I hate him, and he hates me." "Oh, no, no, Mr. Dane," said Patricia, quite distressed and shocked, "you must not talk in that way. It is wrong." "It is human," retorted Theodore bitterly. "All his life Basil has been the petted darling. Uncle George always loved him and ignored me. Basil is good-looking; I am not. Basil is popular; I am not. Basil will marry Mara and inherit Beckleigh, while I am forced to wander homeless and friendless. And if----" His cousin, who had been listening quietly, interrupted at this moment. "I shall not marry Basil," she said very decidedly. "We are good friends, but nothing more." "If you don't marry him, Mara, you will lose the property." "I don't care," she answered indifferently. "I can always live somewhere." "If you would marry me," said Theodore eagerly, "you could go away and live where you liked. I only want to inherit Beckleigh." "Oh!" cried Patricia, revolted by this selfish sentiment.