"We've had the jolliest time," she declared. "We motored to Wynhampton and saw the last of the races. After that, we dined at a dear little place with a duckpond at the bottom of the garden. And finally we returned--it ought to have been by moonlight, only there was no moon. Where is everyone? In the billiard-room? I want some milk and soda frightfully. Vivian, you might, like the good sort you are, go and get me some." She bestowed a dazzling smile upon her _fiance_ and offered him one finger by way of salutation. Abingdon, who had been waiting to get in a word, here exploded with some violence and told his young cousin in no measured terms what he thought of her conduct. She listened with her head on one side, her eyes brimful of mischief, and finally with an airy gesture turned to Caryl. "Don't you want to scold me, too? I am sure you do. You had better be quick or there will be nothing left to say." Abingdon turned on his heel and walked away. He was thoroughly angry and made no attempt to hide it. His wife lingered a moment irresolute, then softly followed him. And as the door closed, Caryl looked very steadily into the girl's flushed face and spoke: "All I have to say is this. Maurice Brandon is no fit escort for any woman who values her reputation. And I here and now forbid you most strictly, most emphatically, ever to go out with him alone again." He paused. She was looking straight back at him with her chin in the air. "Dear me!" she said. "Do you really? And who gave you the right to dictate to me?" "You yourself," he answered quietly. "Indeed! May I ask when?" He stiffened a little, but his face did not alter. "When you promised to be my wife," he said. Her eyes blazed instant defiance. "An engagement can be broken off!" she declared recklessly. "By mutual consent," said Caryl drily. "That is absurd," she rejoined. "You couldn't possibly hold me to it against my will." "I am quite capable of doing so," he told her coolly, "if I think it worth my while." "Worth your while!" she exclaimed, staring at him as if she doubted his sanity. "Even so," he said. "When I have fully satisfied myself that a heartless little flirt like you can be transformed into a virtuous and amiable wife. It may prove a difficult process, I admit, and perhaps not altogether a pleasant one. But I shall not shirk it on that account." He leant back against the mantelpiece with a gesture that plainly said that so far as he was concerned the matter was ended. But it was not so with Doris. She stood before him for several seconds absolutely motionless, all the vivid colour gone from her face, her blue eyes blazing with speechless fury. At length, with a sudden, fierce movement, she tore the ring he had given her from her finger and held it out to him. "Take it!" she said, her voice high-pitched and tremulous. "This is the end!" He did not stir a muscle. "Not yet, I think," he said.