"That is what everyone would say," impatiently. "In the meantime, I
_cannot go_ on living with my uncle. No; I can't." She leans back,
and, flinging her arms behind her neck, looks with a little laughing
pout at Rylton. "Some day I shall do something dreadful," says she.

She is charming, posing so. Rylton looks at her. How pretty she is!
How guileless! How far removed from worldly considerations! His
affair with Marian is at an end. Never to be renewed! That is
settled. He had given her a last word, and she had spurned it.

After all, why should he _not _marry this charming child? The
marriage would please his mother, and restore the old name to
something of its ancient grandeur. And as for himself--why, it
matters nothing to him.

"It is all over. It is all over."

Again that teasing voice in his ear.

Well, if it _is_ all over, so much to the good. But as for this girl
sitting near him, if he must take her to be his wife, it shall be at
least in good faith. She shall know all. Probably she will refuse
him. For one thing, because he is ten years older than she is--a
century in the eyes of a child of seventeen; and, for another,
because she may not like him at all. For all he knows, she may hate
him as she hates her uncle George, in certain ways.

However it is, he will tell her that he has no love for her. It
shall be all fair and above-board between them. He can give her a
title. She can give him money, without which the title would be