"Your butler is not at fault in this instance," said a voice from the hallway, and before either of the women could recover from her surprise, a flashily dressed young man with intensely red hair entered the room. He carried his left arm in a sling. His face was pale; his eyes glittered with a feverish light; his voice quivered with repressed excitement. "I was waiting for your father in his office, when I heard your maid go by, and I asked her to announce me. I hoped for, but I can hardly say I expected, a more hospitable reception." Miss Murdock, after the first shock of surprise, had drawn up her graceful figure to its full height, and stood looking at the young man with undisguised contempt in her flashing eyes. Chatham paused as if expecting a reply; and then: "Shall I explain the object of my visit before your servant?" he asked bitterly. "You may leave, Mary, until I ring for you," said the young girl, turning to the maid. The woman reluctantly left the room, casting curious glances upon her young mistress and her unwelcome guest as she went. Chatham made a motion as if to take a chair; but Agnes remained significantly standing. "Perhaps," she said coldly, "you will be good enough to explain as briefly as possible your object in forcing your presence upon me in this ungentlemanly way?" "I suppose my conduct does strike you as ungentlemanly," said the young man piteously; "but what could I do? I love you devotedly, madly, and you will not allow me even to tell you so. You instruct your servants to turn me away from the door like a beggar. Is it a crime to love you?" "No, Mr. Chatham," said the girl more gently, "it is not a crime to love a woman; but it is at least a serious blunder to adopt the method you have selected of showing your affection, and it is certainly not generous to force it upon her as you are doing." "What else can I do?" he repeated doggedly. "Here am I suddenly obliged to leave New York for a long time,--perhaps for ever,--and unable to get a single word with you. I called yesterday morning and was informed that you were at that artist fellow's studio. Then I wrote you a letter asking for an interview and I left it there for you myself. The only notice you took of it was to give instructions to your butler not to admit me if I called again. I cannot go away like that, without a ray of hope to lighten my exile, and leave you here surrounded by a lot of men who are anxious to marry you." The tender-hearted girl felt a growing pity for the awkward and vulgar young man in whom she began vaguely to discern a genuine suffering. "I am sorry, Mr. Chatham," she said, "more sorry than I can say. But what can I do? I do not care for you in the way you wish, and affection is not to be coerced. I have done the best I could to discourage you, because----" "I know you have," interrupted Chatham; "you have avoided me, and snubbed me, and taken every way you could to show that you do not like me."