She was afraid of him; but she would not confess it. There was a coarseness in his manner; a lowness in his speech, his clipping and contracting words more like a private trooper than like an English gentleman, that disgusted her; and there was a look in his gleaming, sunken black eyes that made her afraid. She presently saw that he would take her hand if she hesitated longer; so, without further remark, she turned and led the way to the arbor she had pointed out. It was a small affair a framework of wood, over which the closely interwoven branches and tendrils of a number of stout grape-vines formed a complete covering, with plain wooden seats on three of its sides. Cordelia waited until Lord Oakleigh was seated; and she then sat down on the opposite side. She had struggled bravely to compose herself, being determined that nothing he could say should cause her to forget herself or to lose her temper. “Matthew, it is nearer to the breakfast hour, perhaps, than you think.” “Oh! don’t worry. I won’t take long to say the little I have in mind.” He paused here, and looked at her curiously. Presently he went on. “Cordelia--you remember I once told you that when I should be ready to speak on a certain subject I should speak plainly, and in few words; and you will confess that from that time I have given you your own way, so far as I have been concerned. I have not sought to interfere with you in any way, neither in regard to your acts nor your choice of companions. ’Pon my word! I think, all things considered, that I’ve done pretty well, don’t you?” “Really, my lord, I can not imagine to what circumstance you have reference--what things you would have considered.” “Can’t you?” “Indeed, I can not.” “Well, look here. You know very well that it was the earnest desire of your parents, of your father and of mine, that you and I should grow up to be husband and wife. That you know.” “That I--do--not--know!” the girl replied, speaking slowly and with strong emphasis. “What! You don’t know?” cried Oakleigh, feigning great surprise. “But you do know. You can not help knowing. I tell you--” “Stop!” commanded the young lady, holding up her hand. “Let us not dispute. Your grandfather knows if my father ever expressed any desire of that kind. Let him decide between us.” “Look ye, Cordelia!” Matthew exclaimed, with the flame of anger in his sunken eyes, “do you mean to throw me over now? After all these years of patient waiting, do you fancy that I am to be cast aside, like a worn-out boot? By the Host! you’ll find it a sorry work to do.” “Lord Oakleigh!” said the proud girl starting to her feet, her face flushed and her eyes burning with deep indignant fire, “you have no authority--no right--for speaking to me in that manner. Let me tell you, once for all, I never had, I have not now, nor can I ever have a thought of becoming your wife. Let me hope that you will never broach the subject again.”