s into the hall. "Here he is, Regina!" she called out; "I have
done with him."

Before Amelius could speak, she had shut herself into her room. He
advanced along the hall, and met Regina at the door of the dining-room.

CHAPTER 3

The young lady spoke first.

"Mr. Goldenheart," she said, with the coldest possible politeness,
"perhaps you will be good enough to explain what this means?"

She turned back into the dining-room. Amelius followed her in silence.
"Here I am, in another scrape with a woman!" he thought to himself. "Are
men in general as unlucky as I am, I wonder?"

"You needn't close the door," said Regina maliciously. "Everybody in the
house is welcome to hear what _I_ have to say to you."

Amelius made a mistake at the outset--he tried what a little humility
would do to help him. There is probably no instance on record in which
humility on the part of a man has ever really found its way to the
indulgence of an irritated woman. The best and the worst of them alike
have at least one virtue in common--they secretly despise a man who is
not bold enough to defend himself when they are angry with him.

"I hope I have not offended you?" Amelius ventured to say.

She tossed her head contemptuously. "Oh dear, no! I am not offended.
Only a little surprised at your being so very ready to oblige my aunt."

In the short experience of her which had fallen to the lot of Amelius,
she had never looked so charmingly as she looked now. The nervous
irritability under which she was suffering brightened her face with the
animation which was wanting in it at ordinary times. Her soft brown eyes
sparkled; her smooth dusky cheeks glowed with a warm red flush; her
tall supple figure asserted its full dignity, robed in a superb dress of
silken purple and black lace, which set off her personal attractions to
the utmost advantage. She not only roused the admiration of Amelius--she
unconsciously gave him back the self-possession which he had, for the
moment, completely lost. He was man enough to feel the humiliation of
being despised by the one woman in the world whose love he longed
to win; and he answered with a sudden firmness of tone and look that
startled her.

"You had better speak more plainly still, Miss Regina," he said. "You
may as well blame me at once for the misfortune of being a man."

She drew back a step. "I don't understand you," she answered.

"Do I owe no forbearance to a woman who asks a favour of me?"