ughly angry in his life. He
stalked up to Antonia now, and endeavoured to pass her, but she dodged
him successfully.

"I know you are a gentleman," she said; "and a gentleman always listens
to what a lady has got to say, even when he is angry with her. I'm an
awful personage in your eyes, but if you will listen to me to-night, I
will promise to be as good and unobtrusive as girl can be in the future.
I'll even wear ordinary dresses when I come to visit you, and I won't
talk of my sacred Art when you are in the room. There, can girl promise
more?--can she?"

"Will you have the goodness to let me pass?" said Sir John.

"I will in a moment or two. You shall go and dine at your club after you
have heard why I sent for you."

"Why _you_ sent for me?" exclaimed Sir John.

"Oh, yes; it was all my doing."

"But the message certainly came in your mother's name."

"Yes, because you would not have come otherwise. It was I, Antonia, who
really sent for you. You have come up to town in this violent hurry on
my account. Now, will you come down to eat a very nice little dinner
which has been prepared, and which the cook is waiting to send upstairs,
and let me talk to you while you are enjoying it? Or will you listen to
me here, and then go afterwards to your club? You must do one or other,
unless you are rude enough to take me by main force and move me away
from the door."

Sir John Thornton might be very angry, but he was the pink of propriety,
and the idea of lifting the bony Antonia from the neighbourhood of the
door was too repellent even to be thought of for a moment.

"You have got me into a trap," he said, "and I am deeply offended. Your
mother must explain the position of affairs to me when she chooses to
return home. I suppose I must listen to you, whether I wish it or not. I
only beg of you to be brief."

"Now you are delightful," said Antonia. "Won't you sit down?"

"I prefer to stand."

"Well, I'll sit, if you don't mind, for I've a good deal to say."

"I must again beg of you to be brief."

"Very well; I'll put it into a few words, but they'll be strong, I
promise you."

Sir John made no response. He folded his arms and looked down at
Antonia. His face looked very cold and satirical; his lips were so
tightly shut as to appear like a straight line. Antonia's face, all
enthusiasm and fire, gazed up at him.

"Can I melt that iceberg?" she said inwardly. "Now for the tug of war."

"This is the heart and