That night Prudence asked Edward Morgan for her release. The dance to which she had looked forward so gladly, and which she had not enjoyed, had galvanised her into a fixed determination to secure her freedom while yet there was time. The thought of marriage with a man so much older than herself, with whom she had nothing in common, whose every wish opposed itself in gentle opposition to her own, had become a nightmare to her. Young eyes had looked into her eyes that night with a wondering question in them that had hurt her. The hunger for young companionship gripped her. Her memory echoed the careless inconsequent chatter, the joyous laughter of irresponsible youth. One laugh in particular, an amused incredulous laugh, rang in her ears like a reproach. Why had she committed this folly? She must draw back before it was too late. With manifest nervousness Prudence made her faltering appeal for release from her engagement during the homeward drive. Mr Morgan was amazed. He keenly resented her lack of consideration for himself in wishing to withdraw her promise after the publicity given to their engagement. She shrank back from the cold anger in his eyes and the hardness of his voice when he answered her. "You are overwrought," he said. "You don't know what you are saying. What have I done, that you should wish to break off your engagement? I have striven to please you, to make you happy. Do you realise that in less than two months we are to be married? You would make me ridiculous. People will laugh. It will be scandalous." His voice gathered anger as he considered the amusement that would arise at his expense when it became known that the young bride he had chosen had jilted him--jilted the wealthy Edward Morgan almost on the eve of the wedding. "It is absurd!" he added. "You don't realise what you ask." "Oh, please!" she cried, and turned a white frightened face towards him. "Don't be angry with me. I'm so sorry. I ought never to have become engaged to you. I don't love you." He sounded a note of impatience. "You raised that point at the time when I proposed," he said. "I thought we had settled that. Love will come with marriage. I have enough for both." "Don't you see that that only makes it worse?" she said in a voice that shook with nervousness. "I can never love you. I know that now. I've tried. Oh! please be generous and forgive me. I am so sorry for causing you pain. I'm so sorry." She broke down, and sat huddled in a corner of the motor, and sobbed. Mr Morgan sank back in his corner and stared out at the darkened street. Never in his life had he felt so annoyed and upset. At the back of his mind lurked the uncomfortable conviction that he had been a fool, that his world would call him a fool, an old fool for falling in love with a pretty face.