worse than other men, and after all he was
a gentleman of wealth and position, such a man as half the women in
Somerset might be proud to own for husband.

Her arguments and his weakness--his returning cowardice, which made him
lend an ear to those same arguments--prevailed with him; at least they
convinced him that he was far too important a person to risk his life in
this quarrel upon which he had so rashly entered. He did not say that
he was convinced; but he said that he would give the matter thought,
hinting that perhaps some other way might present itself of cancelling
the bargain she had made. They had a week before them, and in any case
he promised readily in answer to her entreaties--for her faith in
him was a thing unquenchable--that he would do nothing without taking
counsel with her.

Meanwhile Diana had escorted Sir Rowland to the main gates of Lupton
House, in front of which Miss Westmacott's groom was walking his horse,
awaiting him.

"Sir Rowland," said she at parting, "your chivalry makes you take this
matter too deeply to heart. You overlook the possibility that my cousin
may have good reason for not desiring your interference."

He looked keenly at this little lady to whom a month ago he had been
on the point of offering marriage. His coxcombry might readily have
suggested to him that she was in love with him, but that his conscience
and inclinations urged him to assure himself that this was not the case.

"What shall that mean, madam?" he asked her.

Diana hesitated. "What I have said is plain," she answered, and it was
clear that she held something back.

Sir Rowland flattered himself upon the shrewdness with which he read her,
never dreaming that he had but read just what she intended he should.

He stood squarely before her, shaking his great head. "Not plain enough
for me," he said. Then his tone softened to one of prayer. "Tell me," he
besought her.

"I can't! I can't!" she cried in feigned distress. "It were too
disloyal."

He frowned. He caught her arm and pressed it, his heart sick with
jealous alarm. "What do you mean? Tell me, tell me, Mistress Horton."

Diana lowered her eyes. "You'll not betray me?" she stipulated.

"Why, no. Tell me."

She flushed delicately. "I am disloyal to Ruth," she said, "and yet I am
loath to see you cozened."

"Cozened?" quoth he hoarsely, his egregious vanity in arms. "Cozened?"

Diana explained. "Ruth was at his house to-day," said she, "clo