that it had
fallen, and she could see from the grim expression on Copley's face that
he meant every word he said. She had read of similar situations in
novels, but they had sounded cold and unconvincing, and little like the
real thing now that she was face to face with it.

"You would never do it," she faltered.

"By Heaven, I would!" Copley cried. "Ah, you do not know what manner of
man I am. Why, when you look at me like that, instead of melting I grow
all the harder. I must make you my wife. You little know the sacrifices
I have made to bring this about. I never thought that I could be a fool
for the sake of a woman. I could almost laugh at my own folly, but it
has become part and parcel of my very existence, the only object in the
world that is worth attaining. Well, it is no use talking, for I could
go on in the same strain all night. It is for you to decide. You can
please yourself whether your father is turned out of house and home, or
whether your prosperous and happy future----"

"Prosperous and happy future," May echoed scornfully. "The words on your
lips sound like blasphemy. It seems almost incredible that a man with
any sort of pride should stoop to such a trick as this to force a woman
to marry him, when, from the bottom of her heart, she loathes and
detests him."

Copley jeered.

"Oh, go on," he said. "Let it come out. Treat me as if I were dirt under
your feet. But you will think better of it before a week has passed.
Tell your father what I have been saying to-night, and talk it over
with him. Perhaps he will be able to persuade you better than I can. Let
us go back to the billiard-room."

May turned coldly away, but her eyes were dim, and all the world seemed
slipping away from beneath her feet.

CHAPTER X

CONFESSION

Fielden was not enjoying his game of billiards. It was a favourite game
of his, and one which he had not had much opportunity of exercising
lately, but he would have given something for an excuse to get out of
it. The reason was obvious why Raymond Copley had made an excuse to get
May out of the room. His instinct told him what was going on, and if he
had had any lingering doubt on the subject it would have been dispelled
by the most casual glance at Sir George.

For Haredale had lost all geniality. He became silent and depressed.
From time to time he glanced anxiously towards the door. If such a thing
were possible to a man of his position, and with a record like h