"Oh, yes. Why not? When everybody knows that he is alive there will be no possible reason why he should stay away. In fact, if he is a right-thinking man, he will see that justice requires him to come home at once." "I should not think, myself, that he was a right-thinking man," said Percival, without looking at her. "Because he allowed himself to be thought dead?" said Elizabeth, watching him as he relighted his cigar. "But, then, he was in such terrible trouble--and the opportunity offered itself, and seemed so easy. Poor fellow! I was always very sorry for him." "Were you?" "Yes. His mother, at least, Mrs. Luttrell, for I suppose she is not his mother really, must have been very cruel. From all that I have heard he was the last man to be jealous of his brother, or to wish any harm to him." "In short, you are quite prepared to look upon him as a _heros de roman_, and worship him as such when he appears. Possibly you may think there is some reason in Dino Vasari's naive suggestion that you should marry Mr. Luttrell and prevent any division of the property." "A suggestion which, from you, Percival, is far more insulting than that of the motive which I did not attribute to you," said Elizabeth, with spirit. "You wouldn't marry Brian Luttrell, then?" "Percival!" "Not under any consideration? Well, tell me so. I like to hear you say it." Elizabeth was silent. "Tell me so," he said, stretching out his hand to her, and looking at her attentively, "and I will tell you the reason of my week's silence." "I have no need to tell you so," she answered, in a suppressed voice. "And if I did you would not trust me." "No," he said, drily, "perhaps not; but promise me, all the same, that under no circumstances will you ever marry Brian Luttrell." "I promise," she said, in a low tone of humiliation. Her eyes were full of tears. "And now let me go, Percival. I cannot stay with you--when you say that you trust me so little." He had taken advantage of her rising to seize her hand. He now tossed his cigar into the fire, and rose, too, still holding her hand in his. He looked down at her quivering lips, her tear-filled eyes, with gathering intensity of emotion. Then he put both arms round her, pressed her to his breast with passionate vehemence, and kissed her again and again, on cheek, lip, neck, and brow. She shivered a little, but did not protest.