going to the play with her, and drinking tea with her at Mrs Pipkin's,
and his journey with her to the sea, were not to be taken as evidence
that he was gradually being conquered. He had declared his purpose
plainly enough at Lowestoft,--and plainly enough in his last letter.
She had told him, down at the hotel, that had she by chance have been
armed at the moment, she would have shot him. She could arm herself
now if she pleased;--but his real fear had not lain in that direction.
The pang consisted in having to assure her that he was resolved to do
her wrong. The worst of that was now over.

The door was opened for him by Ruby, who by no means greeted him with
a happy countenance. It was the second morning after the night of her
imprisonment; and nothing had occurred to alleviate her woe. At this
very moment her lover should have been in Liverpool, but he was, in
fact, abed in Welbeck Street. 'Yes, sir; she's at home,' said Ruby,
with a baby in her arms and a little child hanging on to her dress.
'Don't pull so, Sally. Please, sir, is Sir Felix still in London?'
Ruby had written to Sir Felix the very night of her imprisonment, but
had not as yet received any reply. Paul, whose mind was altogether
intent on his own troubles, declared that at present he knew nothing
about Sir Felix, and was then shown into Mrs Hurtle's room.

'So you have come,' she said, without rising from her chair.

'Of course I came, when you desired it.'

'I don't know why you should. My wishes do not seem to affect you
much. Will you sit down there?' she said, pointing to a seat at some
distance from herself. 'So you think it would be best that you and I
should never see each other again?' She was very calm; but it seemed
to him that the quietness was assumed, and that at any moment it might
be converted into violence. He thought that there was that in her eye
which seemed to foretell the spring of the wild-cat.

'I did think so certainly. What more can I say?'

'Oh, nothing; clearly nothing.' Her voice was very low. 'Why should a
gentleman trouble himself to say any more than that he has changed his
mind? Why make a fuss about such little things as a woman's life, or a
woman's heart?' Then she paused. 'And having come, in consequence of
my unreasonable request, of course you are wise to hold your peace.'

'I came because I promised.'

'But you did not promise to speak;--did you?'

'What would you have me say?'

'Ah what! Am I to be s