For weeks past he had been fighting to school his madness, as he called it--his sacrilegious madness--for he told himself that Glynne should be as sacred to him as if she were already Rolph's honoured wife, while now, coming suddenly upon her as he had, and seeing the agitation which his presence caused, every good resolution was swept away. He did not see Rolph's promised wife before him; he did not see the woman whom he had, in his inmost heart, vowed a hundred times to look upon as the idol of some dream of love, an unsubstantial fancy, whom he could never see; but she who stood there was Glynne Day, the woman who had just taught him what it was to love. For all these years he had been the slave of science. His every thought had been given to the work of his most powerful mistress, and then the slave had revolted. Again and again he had told himself that he had resumed his allegiance, that science was his queen once more, and that he should never again stray from her paths. That he had had his lesson, as men before him; but that he had fought bravely, manfully, and conquered; and now, as soon as he stood in presence of Glynne, his shallow defences were all swept away--he was at her mercy. As they stood gazing at each other, Alleyne made another effort. "I will be strong--a man who can master self. I will not give way," he said to himself; and even as he hugged these thoughts it was as if some mocking voice were at his elbow, whispering to him these questions,-- "Was it right that this sweet, pure-minded woman, whose thoughts were every day growing broader and higher, and who had taught him what it really was to love, should become the wife of that thoughtless, brainless creature, whose highest aim was to win the applause of a senseless mob to the neglect of everything that was great and good? "She loves you--she who was so calm and fancy free, has she not seemed to open--unfold that pure chalice of her heart before you, to fill it to the brim with thoughts of you? Has she not eagerly sought to follow, however distantly, in your steps; read the books you advised; thirsted for the knowledge that dropped from your lips; thrown aside the trivialities of life to take to the solid sciences you love? And why-- why?--because she loves you." Every promise self-made, every energetic determination to be stern in his watch over self was forgotten in these moments; and it was only by a strenuous effort that he mastered himself enough to keep back for the time the flow of words that were thronging to his lips. As it was, he walked straight to her, and caught her hand in his--a cold, trembling hand, which Glynne felt that she could not draw back. The stern commanding look in his eyes completely mastered her, and for the moment she felt that she was his very slave. "I must speak with you," he said, in a low, hoarse voice. "I cannot talk here; come out beneath the sky, where the air is free and clear, Glynne, I must speak with you now."