The quiet dignity of her speech and bearing brought back Leonard in some way to his sense of duty as a gentleman.

He began, in a sheepish way, to make an apology: 'I'm sure I beg your pardon, Stephen.' But again she held the warning hand: 'There is no need for pardon; the fault, if there were any, was mine alone.

It was I, remember, who asked you to come here and who introduced and conducted this melancholy business.

I have asked you several things, Leonard, and one more I will add--'tis only one: that you will forget!' As she moved away, her dismissal of the subject was that of an empress to a serf.

Leonard would have liked to answer her; to have given vent to his indignation that, even when he had refused her offer, she should have the power to treat him if he was the one refused, and to make him feel small and ridiculous in his own eyes.