antness.

This troubled him; and now, partly sceptical, yet partly conscious,
too, of her very frank liking for himself, he looked at her, perplexed,
apprehensive, unwilling to credit her with any deeper meaning than her
words expressed.

She had grown pink and restless under his gaze, using her cigarette
frequently, and continually flicking the ashes to the floor, until the
little finger of her glove was blackened.

But courage characterised her race. It had required more than he knew
for her to come into his house; and now that she was there loyalty to
her professed principles--that a man and a woman were by right endowed
with equal privileges--forced her to face the consequences of her theory
in the practise.

She had, with calm face and quivering heart, given him an opening. That
was a concession to her essential womanhood and a cowardice on her part;
and, lest she turn utterly traitor to herself, she faced him again,
cool, quiet, and terror in her heart:

"I'd be very glad to marry you--if you c-cared to," she said.

"Marion!"

"Yes?"

"Oh--I--it is--of course it's a joke."

"No; I'm serious."

"Serious! Nonsense!"

"Please don't say that."

He looked at her, appalled.

"But I--but you don't love--can't be in love with me!" he stammered.

"I am."

Gloved hands tightening on either end of her riding-crop, she bent her
knee against it, balancing there, looking straight at him.

"I meant to tell you so," she said, "if you didn't tell me first. So--I
was rather--tired waiting. So I've told you."

"It is only a fancy," he said, scarcely knowing what he was saying.

"I don't think so, Stephen."

But he could not meet her candour, and he sat, silent, miserable,
staring at the papers on his desk.

After a while she drew a deep, even breath, and rose to her feet.

"I'm sorry," she said simply.

"Marion--I never dreamed that--"

"You should dream truer," she said. There was a suspicion of mist in her
clear eyes; she turned abruptly to the window and stood there for a few
moments, looking down at her brougham waiting in front of the house. "It
can't be helped, can it!" she said, turning suddenly.

He found no answer to her question.

"Good-bye," she said, walking to him with outstretched hand; "it's all
in a lifetime, Steve, and that's too short for a good, clean friendship
like ours to die in. I don't think I'd better come again. Look me up for
a gallop when you're fit. And you might drop me