"Mother, I love Diana. I have my faults, but that is the best of me. I love her desperately. Oh, I know you’re going to say that at times I haven’t proved by my actions that I cared for her, but it’s because I knew from the beginning that I never could reach her. Does she love me? No, I can’t deceive myself. She was devilled into marrying me for the damned title. I know that now. The best I can hope for is that she should not utterly despise me, and I want a chance to win her love—my God, how I want it! Everything that Jim does pleases her. She admires him; I can see it clearly." He paused as the whirlwind of words swept from him; he rose, and towered over his mother. "That admiration belongs to me. You’ve spoiled me, mother. I’ve always had what I wanted, and now I’m the victim of it. I’m the selfish monster that takes everything while St. James stands modestly in the background. Oh, don’t you see you have made him her hero, not me?" He began to move restlessly about the rose paths, Lady Elizabeth following. Indulgently she linked her arm through his. Although a fear was beginning to persuade her of the truth of his wild words, still, she argued, he greatly exaggerated. That he cared so deeply for Diana promised well for the future, and, with her aid, Diana would soon be convinced of Henry’s worthiness. "My dear boy," she said, "is that all you have to worry over?" "No, mother, no—I wish to God it were." She caught hold of him almost savagely, "Ah—" she gasped. Then the apprehensions that had torn her for days had been justified. She feared to question further. An overwhelming dread held her in its torturing grip. Henry started as though to leave her; his face was averted, she turned him towards her. "Money again?" she asked. "You know what the demands on me are. I couldn’t disgrace my family by going into bankruptcy, and I had to have money. Well—I was foolish enough to borrow—" Lady Elizabeth knew instinctively the words that would follow. Her hands clinched his arm so tight that he shrank under the pressure. "Borrow, mind," he continued, "some of the Fund’s money." "The Relief Fund? Oh, Henry—" The despair and horror of her tone caused him to put his arms protectingly about her. Even in his own blind fury at fate he could see her shrink from her stately strength into a feeble old woman. He tried to reassure her. "Oh. it’s really all right, mater. I’ll be able to replace it. "How?" She clung to his arm. He could hear the quadrille’s last quarters beginning; it would be impossible to continue this conversation much longer. "You wouldn’t understand, mother. You see, it’s a stock transaction, but it’s all right—bound to be. Hobbes, of Simpson & Hobbes, you know, gave me the tip. It was absolutely inside information." Lady Elizabeth loosened her hold, and with a hopeless gesture moved away. Henry read her lack of faith in the enterprise.