"What a blessing that there was not! You could not have stopped the marriage. You would only have exposed yourself and made a row."

"Then I should have done that."

"I don't think so. It would not have been like you. You are too cool, too politic to ruin yourself. Come, Rose," looking at his watch, "there are but just sixteen minutes before the train starts. I have just fifteen to give you, because it will take me one minute to reach my seat. Therefore, whatever you have to say, my dear, had better be said at once."

"I have not come here to reproach you, Fabian Rockharrt," she said, fixing him with her eyes.

"That is kind of you at all events."

"No; we reproach a man for carelessness, for thoughtlessness, for forgetfulness; but for baseness, villainy, treachery like yours it is not reproach, it is--"

"Magnanimity or murder! I suppose so. Let it be magnanimity, Rose. I have never done you anything but good since I first met your face, now twenty years ago. You were but sixteen then. You are thirty-six now, and, by Jove! handsomer than ever."

"Thank you; I quite well know that I am. My looking gla.s.s, that never flatters, tells me so."

"Then why, in the name of common sense, can you not be happy? Look you, Rose, you have no cause to complain of me. When even in your childhood, you--"

"How dare you throw that up to me!" she exclaimed.

He went on as if he had not heard her.

"Were utterly lost and ruined through the villainy of your first lover--what did I do? I took you up, got a place for you in my father's house as the governess of my niece."

"Well, I worked for my living there, did I not? I gave a fair day's work for a fair day's wages, as your stony old father would say."

"Certainly, you did. But you would not have had an opportunity of doing so in any honest way if it had not been for me."

"How dare you hit me in the teeth with that!"

"Only in self-defense, my Rose."

"It was with an ulterior, a selfish, a wicked end in view. You know it."

"I know, and Heaven knows that I served you from pure benevolence and from no other motive. Gracious goodness! why, I was over head and ears in love with another woman at that time. But you, Rose, you made a dead set at me. You did not care for me the least in life, but you cared for wealth and position, and you were bound to have them if you could."

"Coward!" she hissed, "to talk to me in this way."

"I am not finding fault with you the least in the world. You acted naturally on the principles of self-interest and self-preservation. You wanted me to marry you, but I could not do that under the circ.u.mstances.

By Jove! though, I did more for you than I ever did for any other living woman and with less reward--with no reward at all, in fact. When your time was up at Rockhold I settled an income on you, and afterward, in addition to that, I gave you that beautiful cottage, elegantly furnished from bas.e.m.e.nt to roof. And what did I ever get in return for all that?

Flatteries and fair words--nothing more. You were as cold as a stone, Rose."

"I would not give my love upon any promise of marriage, but only for marriage itself."

"And that you know I could not offer you, and you also knew why I could not."

"Poltroon! to reproach me with the great calamity of my childhood."

"I repeat that I do not reproach you at all. I am only stating the facts, for which I do not blame you in the least, though they prevented the possibility of my ever thinking of marriage with you. I gave you a house furnished, land, and an income to insure you the comforts, luxuries, and elegances of life. I did not bargain with you beforehand.

I thought surely you would, as you led me to believe that you would, give me love in return for all these. But no. As soon as you were secure in your possessions you turned upon me and said that I should not even visit you at your house without marriage. Now, what have you to complain of?"

"This! that you have broken faith with me!"

"In what way, pray you?"

"You swore that, if you did not marry me, no more would you ever marry any woman."

"If you would love me. Not if you would not. Besides, I had not seen my sweet wood violet then," he added, aggravatingly.

She turned upon him, her eyes flashing blue fire.

"I will be revenged!" she said.

"Be anything you like, my dear, only do not be melodramatic. It's bad form. Come, now, Rose, you have your house and your income. You are still young, and much handsomer than ever. Be happy, my dear. And now I really must leave you and run to the train."

"Go. I will not detain you. I came here only to tell you that I will be revenged. I have told you that and have no more to say."

She turned and went down the hill toward the cottage in the dell.

Mr. Fabian hurried to the train and sprang on board just as it began to move.

"Fabian! Oh, Fabian!" cried the alarmed bride, "you were almost knocked under the wheels!"

"All right, my dear little love. I am safe now," he laughed.

"Where is my tea?"

"Oh, my dear child," exclaimed the conscience-stricken man. "I am so very sorry! But the tea was detestable--perfectly detestable! I could not bring you such stuff. I am so very sorry, Violet, my precious."

"Well, never mind. Bring me a gla.s.s of ice water from the cooler."

He obeyed her, and when she had drank, took back the tumbler.

A porter came along and lighted the lamps in the cars, for it was now fast growing dark.

The train sped on.

Our travelers reached Baltimore late at night, changed cars at midnight for New York, and reached that city the next morning in time to secure the pa.s.sage they had engaged.

At noon they sailed in the Arctic for Liverpool.

CHAPTER XI.

THE WILES OF THE SIREN.

When the bridal pair had started on their journey the wedding guests dispersed.