him that no letter from him had come to her hands had it not reached
her. "Let us go out upon the stairs," he said, "for I must speak to
you. Oh, if you could know what I suffered when you did not come to
Monkshade! Why did you not come?"

"I wish I had not come here," she said.

"Because you have seen me? That, at any rate, is not kind of you."

They were now making their way slowly down the stairs, in the crowd,
towards the supper-room. All the world was now intent on food and
drink, and they were only doing as others did. Lady Glencora was not
thinking where she went, but, glancing upwards, as she stood for a
moment wedged upon the stairs, her eyes met those of Mr Bott. "A man
that can treat me like that deserves that I should leave him." That
was the thought that crossed her mind at the moment.

"I'll get you some champagne with water in it," said Burgo. "I know
that is what you like."

"Do not get me anything," she said. They had now got into the
room, and had therefore escaped Mr Bott's eyes for the moment. "Mr
Fitzgerald,"--and now her words had become a whisper in his ear,--"do
what I ask you. For the sake of the old days of which you spoke, the
dear old days which can never come again--"

"By G----! they can," said he. "They can come back, and they shall."

"Never. But you can still do me a kindness. Go away, and leave me.
Go to the sideboard, and then do not come back. You are doing me an
injury while you remain with me."

"Cora," he said,

But she had now recovered her presence of mind, and understood what
was going on. She was no longer in a dream, but words and things
bore to her again their proper meaning. "I will not have it, Mr
Fitzgerald," she answered, speaking almost passionately. "I will not
have it. Do as I bid you. Go and leave me, and do not return. I tell
you that we are watched." This was still true, for Mr Bott had now
again got his eyes on them, round the supper-room door. Whatever was
the reward for which he was working, private secretaryship or what
else, it must be owned that he worked hard for it. But there are
labours which are labours of love.

"Who is watching us?" said Burgo; "and what does it matter? If you
are minded to do as I have asked you--"

"But I am not so minded. Do you not know that you insult me by
proposing it?"

"Yes;--it is an insult, Cora,--unless such an offer be a joy to you.
If you wish to be my wife instead of his, it is no insult."

"How can I be