f you'll forgive me and be a little kind
to me, I promise you that I won't seek her out."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"More than I dare tell you at present. But for the present--shake hands
and say you forgive my rudeness in the wood."

I put my hand in his, and felt his lips upon it, but I bore it.

"Then it is a bargain," he said. "We are enemies no longer, and I
promise to let Nora alone. If only the women would always let me alone!
What, are you going back to that hot room? And the May moon in the sky,
the lovers' moon! Stay with me a little while, because I've been a good
boy and promised you what you asked. You could wind me round your little
finger. There's nothing I wouldn't do to please you."

The end of his protestations fell on empty air, for I had lifted the
curtain and re-entered the drawing-room.

When I came in, with Richard Dawson following me, I was annoyed to find
that my grandfather and Mr. Dawson had come into the drawing-room, and
were standing near the fireplace. Both looked round, and I thought my
grandfather's face wore a startled look, while Mr. Dawson's for an
instant beamed excessive gratification.

I hoped that Lord and Lady St. Leger could not think that I tolerated
with any patience the attentions of Richard Dawson. Seeing that they
believed me bound by some childish promise to my cousin Theobald that
was not very likely. And I could not explain to them why I had gone out
on the balcony alone with Richard Dawson.

My memory of the time after that seems to consist of nothing but a
string of Dawsons coming and going. I did not know what to make of it.
Surely the propitiation of the Dawsons did not mean that we should see
so very much of them. They were alone now, their fine friends having
gone back to London, and their being alone involved an intimacy which
need not have been if there were a crowd.

My godmother at this time was much occupied, her cousin, Miss Joan,
having developed a disease which in time was to prove mortal, so she
knew less of how much the Dawsons came and went, though she must have
known it, for I've no doubt the county talked of it. We had been so sure
that we would never admit the Dawsons no matter what any one else did,
nor any persons who were merely rich. We had always been very proud and
exclusive at Aghadoe.

A little while after that dinner at Damerstown Nora confessed to me with
tears that she had stolen out in my absence and had lain in wa