"I'm afraid, Miss Warrender, that I have betrayed you into a _tête-à-tête_. Your father wished me luck, and told me I should find you here, while your cousin informed me that we should be _quite_ undisturbed. May I hope that you will give me a chance; that possibly, after a time, I may not altogether be indifferent to you, Georgie?" Again the rosy flush mantled on the girl's tell-tale cheek. Haggard continued, "Of course you have seen, dear Georgie, that I have been very hard hit this season, for a lazy ne'er-do-weel like myself to dance attendance at every entertainment that Miss Warrender graced with her presence, must have made the state of my affections pretty manifest I suppose. We have known each other a long time. I have never done anything mean or dirty that I know of, Georgie. Of course I was a young fool, and kicked up my heels as young fools do. But I think I have had all the nonsense knocked out of me. My roving life in Mexico and my chase after the almighty dollar have sobered me. Can you trust me, Georgie? I'll be good to you, upon my word I will. Good to you and proud of you, if you'll only give me the chance. You are too clever for me to attempt to argue you into it. But, dear Georgie, I love you as I never loved any woman breathing, and not with the mere passing fancy of a boy. I have seen the world and a good deal of life, the gilded and the seamy sides. Tell me, Georgie. May I hope? Will you give me a chance?" Georgie looked into his eyes and smiled. He had spoken it trippingly on the tongue, though seemingly spontaneous, it had been well thought out; for Haggard was an actor, a leading gentleman, well experienced in lovers' _rôles_. It is not meant by this that Haggard was what the old song calls a "star-breasted villain." But Georgie Warrender was not by any means his first love. Haggard looked upon Georgie as a valuable acquisition; from the physical point of view she was the finest, freshest, fairest girl he had come across. And he coveted her as an amateur covets a picture; that it may belong to him, and that others may fruitlessly desire his pearl of great price. True, no sordid consideration influenced Haggard. Can we call this love? Let us be charitable and do so. But we will also be just and qualify. It was love of the nineteenth century, of the society type. "You pay me a great compliment, Mr. Haggard, a very undeserved compliment. I cannot pretend to be taken by surprise, for, as you say, your attentions _have_ been very marked. What am I to say to you? With a girl it is a very serious matter; for once we give our hearts, at least some of us, Mr. Haggard, we give them for good and all. A mistake once made, in our case, cannot be set right. Our affections once given away to a man, and perhaps afterwards flung aside, then leave us with nothing to bestow but our miserable selves. Are you quite sure you have made up your mind, and that you won't want to change it?" she said, looking up archly in his face.