Her face drew near to Dorothy's as she spoke, and the girl could feel her hot breath on her cheek. But Dorothy had a brave heart of her own and did not flinch. For all she knew, Lola might intend to stab her at the very minute. The Park keeper was some distance away, and it was useless to create a scandal by calling him to her assistance. Lola was just the kind of mad creature to make a scene. Retaining control of herself, though her heart was beating rapidly, Dorothy fixed her eyes firmly on those of Lola. "Sit a little further away," she said, "and we will talk calmly." "Are you not afraid?" asked Lola, surprised. She had always found the savage attitude so effective. Dorothy laughed. "I was never afraid of anything or of any one in my life," she said coolly. "And I am not going to begin now. What do you want, mademoiselle? Why do you threaten me?" "Bah!" cried the other, but moving back a little as requested, "you know, you blond white cat, you. It is George." "What about George?" "He is mine. He loves me. You would take him from me." "If you are speaking of George Brendon----" "Of who else should I speak? You know--ah, you know!" "Yes. I know. I heard some rumors as to how he helped you. But I do not believe for one moment that he loves you." "He does. You dare ask that he loves." "I shall do nothing of the sort. We may as well understand one another, as you have no right to thrust yourself upon me." "I do do what I do please," said Lola, sullenly. "These sorts of things are not allowed in England, I am sorry for you, and so I speak. Otherwise, I should call the Park keeper." "I want not any sorrow. I do want my own George." "Mr. Brendon is engaged to marry me," said Dorothy, deliberately. Lola sprang to her feet with flashing eyes. "It will not be," she almost shouted. "I love him." "Sit down," said Dorothy, much in the same tone as she would have used to a fractious child, and Lola resumed her seat immediately. The woman was a creature of impulse. Had Dorothy raged also, she would have gained the ascendancy. But this calmness, to use a nautical simile, "took the wind out of her sails." She could only do as she was told. "But I will have my George," she muttered. "Listen to me," said Dorothy, quietly. "I have no right to answer your questions. But I am sorry for you. I will speak to Mr. Brendon." "No--" Lola looked up in terror--"you must not do that. He will be very angry--oh, much--much enraged." "Then that shows me you have been speaking untruths. Mr. Brendon does not love you----" "But I say yes--yes--yes!" Lola sprang to her feet again and poured forth her wrath. "Ah, you think he will be milord and that you will marry him, but----" "What do you know about that?" asked Dorothy, rising indignantly.