e almost of
indifference.

"Well, the question will soon be decided." Lashmar seemed to submit
himself to the inevitable. "I shall write to Lady Ogram, telling her
the result of our conversation. We shall see how she takes it."

He moved as if about to rise, but only turned his chair slightly aside.
Constance was regarding him from under her brows. She spoke in her most
businesslike tone.

"It was this that you came to tell me?"

"Why, no. It wasn't that at all."

"What had you in mind, then?"

"I was going to ask if you would marry me--or rather, if you would
promise to--or rather, if you would make believe to marry me. I thought
that, under the circumstances, it was a justifiable thing to do, for I
fancied your future, as well as mine, was at stake. Seeing our friend's
condition, it appeared to me that a formal engagement between us would
be a kindness to her, and involve no serious consequences for us. But
the case is altered. You being secure against Lady Ogram's displeasure,
I have, of course, no right to ask you to take a part in such a
proceeding--which naturally you would feel to be unworthy of you. All I
have to do is to thank you for your efforts on my behalf. Who knows? I
_may_ hold my own at Hollingford. But at Rivenoak it's all over with
me."

He stood up, and assumed an attitude of resigned dignity, smiling to
himself. But Constance kept her seat, her eyes on the ground.

"I believe you were going down on Saturday?" she said.

"So it was arranged. Well, I mustn't stay--"

Constance rose, and he offered his hand.

"Between us, it makes no difference, I hope?" said Dyce, with an
emphasised effort of cheeriness. "Unless you think me a paltry fellow,
ready to do anything to get on?"

"I don't think that," replied Constance, quietly.

"But you feel that what I was going to ask would have been rather a
severe test of friendship?"

"Under the circumstances, I could have pardoned you."

"But you wouldn't have got beyond forgiveness?"

Constance smiled coldly, her look wandering.

"How can I tell?"

"But--oh, never mind! Good-bye, for the present."

He pressed her hand again, and turned away. Before he had reached the
door, Constance's voice arrested him.

"Mr. Lashmar--"

He looked at her as if with disinterested inquiry.

"Think well before you take any irreparable step. It would be a pity."

Dyce moved towards her again.

"Why, what choice have I? The position is impossible. If yo