Her eyes flashed at him through the darkness, yet he could see that one thing at least he had achieved. Her bosom was rising and falling quickly, her voice shook as she answered him. For the first time he had penetrated that intolerable reserve. "Are you mad?" she cried. "Are you trying to buy me?" "How else should I win even a kind glance?" he answered bitterly. "You mistake me for a railroad system," she mocked. "I have never mistaken you for anything but a woman," was the vibrating reply. "The only trouble is that to me you always posture as something else." His hands were burning upon her wrists, but she showed no resentment. "Is this the way," she asked, "that Americans woo? Do they imprison the lady of their choice in some retired spot and make a cash offer for their affections? You are at least original, Mr. Thain!" "If I can't bring myself to ask you in plain words what I am craving for," he answered hoarsely, "you can guess why. I know very well that there is only one thing about me that counts in your eyes. I know that I should be only an appendage to the money that would make your father happy and Mandeleys free. And yet I don't care. I want you--you first, and then yourself." "You have some faith, then, in your eligibility--and your methods of persuasion?" she observed. "Haven't I reason?" he retorted. "You people here are all filled up with rotten, time-exploded notions, bound with silken bonds, worshippers of false gods. You don't see the truth--you don't know it. I am not sure that I blame you, for it's a beautiful slavery, and but for the ugly realities of life you'd prosper in it and have children just as wonderful and just as ignorant. But, you see, the times are changing. I am one of the signs of them." "If this were an impersonal discussion," Letitia began, struggling to compose her voice-- "But it isn't," he broke in. "I am speaking of you and of me, and no one else. I'm fool enough to love you, to be mad about you! Fool enough to make you an offer of which any man with a grain of self-respect should be ashamed." "I quite agree with you," she said smoothly. "Perhaps it will end this very interesting little episode if I tell you that I am engaged to marry Lord Charles Grantham, and that he is coming down to-morrow." He released her hands--flung them from him almost. "Is this the truth?" he demanded. She laughed lightly. "Why on earth," she asked, "should I take the trouble to tell you anything else?" He pointed to the path. "Get on," he ordered. She found herself obeying him--without resentment, even. When they reached the gate that led into the park, he held it open and remained. She hesitated for a moment. "You are going to leave me to brave the perils of the rest of the journey alone?" she asked.