wick, and declared that
when our engagement was announced he would tell him the story he had
against me. That in itself did not trouble me much since I had no
intention of marrying Painswick; still the man's relentless persecution
was getting more than I could bear.

"I now come to the night of the Hunt Ball. For some days previously I had
seen or heard nothing of Henshaw, and had even begun to hope that
something might have happened to make the man abandon his line of
conduct. I might have known him better. To my intense annoyance and
dismay I saw him come into the ballroom with all the hateful assurance
that was so familiar to me. I could not well escape, seeing that I was
acting as hostess. For a while he, beyond a formal greeting, let me
alone. But I felt what was surely coming, and it was almost a relief when
he took an opportunity of asking for a dance.

"He must have seen the hate in my eyes as in my hesitation they met his,
for he said with a forced laugh, 'You need not do violence to your
feelings by dancing with me, Miss Morriston, if you don't care to, but
there is something I must say to you. Let us come out of the crowd to
where we shall not be overheard.'

"I had never felt so madly furious with the man as at that moment; and it
was with a reckless desire to tell him in strong language my opinion of
his tactics, to insult him, if that were possible, to declare that I
would die rather than yield to him, that I led the way to the tower. My
desire to get out of the crowd was even greater than his, for a mad hope
possessed me that in some desperate way I might bring our relations to a
final issue.

"We went into the sitting-out room. 'Some one will be coming in here,' he
objected. 'Is there a room upstairs where we can talk?'

"'There is a room up there,' I answered, as steadily as my indignation
would let me, and unheeding the idea of compromising myself I went up the
dark staircase in front of him. Naturally the idea that our stormy
interview was to have a witness would have been the last thing to enter
my mind; it never occurred to me to make sure no one was already in the
room when we entered it.

"You know what happened, Mr. Gifford, so I need not go through that. The
man showed himself the cowardly bully that he was. Somehow up there
alone with him, as at least I thought, in the dark, my courage gave way,
and it was only when the man sought in his vehemence to take hold of me
that anger and disgus