ling I am to help you, Cytherea,' she added
reproachfully. 'You know it. Why are you so obstinate then? Why do you
selfishly bar the clear, honourable, and only sisterly path which leads
out of this difficulty? I cannot, on my conscience, countenance you; no,
I cannot.'

Manston once more repeated his offer; and once more she refused, but
this time weakly, and with signs of an internal struggle. Manston's eye
sparkled; he saw for the hundredth time in his life, that perseverance,
if only systematic, was irresistible by womankind.

6. THE TWENTY-SEVENTH OF AUGUST

On going to Budmouth three days later, she found to her surprise that
the steward had been there, had introduced himself, and had seen her
brother. A few delicacies had been brought him also by the same hand.
Owen spoke in warm terms of Manston and his free and unceremonious call,
as he could not have refrained from doing of any person, of any kind,
whose presence had served to help away the tedious hours of a long day,
and who had, moreover, shown that sort of consideration for him which
the accompanying basket implied--antecedent consideration, so telling
upon all invalids--and which he so seldom experienced except from the
hands of his sister.

How should he perceive, amid this tithe-paying of mint, and anise, and
cummin, the weightier matters which were left undone?

Again the steward met her at Carriford Road Station on her return
journey. Instead of being frigid as at the former meeting at the same
place, she was embarrassed by a strife of thought, and murmured brokenly
her thanks for what he had done. The same request that he might see her
home was made.

He had perceived his error in making his kindness to Owen a conditional
kindness, and had hastened to efface all recollection of it. 'Though I
let my offer on her brother's--my friend's--behalf, seem dependent on my
lady's graciousness to me,' he whispered wooingly in the course of their
walk, 'I could not conscientiously adhere to my statement; it was said
with all the impulsive selfishness of love. Whether you choose to have
me, or whether you don't, I love you too devotedly to be anything but
kind to your brother.... Miss Graye, Cytherea, I will do anything,' he
continued earnestly, 'to give you pleasure--indeed I will.'

She saw on the one hand her poor and much-loved Owen recovering from
his illness and troubles by the disinterested kindness of the man
beside her, on the other she drew him