"No; I suppose not. In any case," she added, rising, "I must thank you
for being so good as to think of me; and if I feel obliged to decline
your proposition, I must ask you to believe that my motives are not
petty ones. Now I will say good-afternoon."

Keeping her hands rigidly within her muff, and with a slight, dignified
inclination of the head, she turned from him.

She was half-way to the door before Derek recovered himself sufficiently
to speak.

"May I ask," he inquired, "what your objections are?"

She turned where she stood, but did not come back toward him.

"I have only one. The position you suggest would be intolerable to your
daughter and odious to me."

"But," he asked, with a perplexed contraction of the brows, "isn't it
what companions to young ladies are generally engaged for?"

"I was never engaged as a companion before, so I'm not qualified to say.
I only know--"

She stopped, as if weighing her words.

"Yes?" he insisted; "you only know--what?"

"That no girl with spirit--and Miss Pruyn _is_ a girl with spirit--would
submit to that kind of tyranny."

"It wouldn't be tyranny in this case; it would be authority."

"She would consider it tyranny--especially after the freedom you've
allowed her."

"But you admit that it's freedom that ought to be curbed?"

"Quite so; but aren't there methods of restriction other than those of
compulsion?"

"Such as--what?"

"Such as special circumstances may suggest."

"And in these particular circumstances--?"

"I'm not prepared to say. I'm not sufficiently familiar with them."

"Precisely; but I am."

"You're familiar with them from a man's point of view," she smiled; "but
it's one of those instances in which a man's point of view counts for
very little."

"Admitting that, what would be your advice?"

"I have none to give."

"None?"

She shook her head. Leaving his fortified position by the mantelpiece,
he took a step or two toward her.

"And yet when I began to speak you seemed favorably inclined to the
offer I was making you. You must have had ideas on the subject, then."

"Only vague ones. I made the mistake of supposing that yours would be
equally so."

"And with your vague ideas, your intention was--?"

"To adapt myself to circumstances; I couldn't tell beforehand what they
would be. I imagined that what you wanted for your daughter was the
society of an experienced woman of the world; and I am that, whatever
else I may no