Rylton is white now with rage.

"You are wrong there; I have the worst opinion of you; I think you a tyrant--a perfect _Nero!"_

Suddenly she lifts her pretty hands and covers her face with them.

She bursts into tears.

"And you _promised_ you would never be unkind to me!" sobs she.

"Unkind! Good heavens!" says Rylton, distractedly. _Who_ is unkind?

Is it he or she? Who is in fault?

"At all events you pretended to be fond of me."

"I never pretend anything," says Rylton, whose soul seems torn in twain.

"You did," cries t.i.ta wildly. "You _did."_ She brushes her tears aside, and looks up at him--her small, delicate face flushed--her eyes on fire! "You promised you would be kind to me."

"I promised nothing," in a dull sort of way. He feels crushed, unable to move. "It was you who arranged everything; I was to go my way, and you yours."

"It was liberal, at all events."

"And useless!" There is a prophetic note in his voice. "As you would have gone your way, whether or no."

"And you, yours!"

"I don't know about that. But your way--where does that lead? Now, look here, t.i.ta,"--he takes a step towards her--"you are bent on following that way. But mark my words, bad will come of it."

"Nothing bad will come of _my_ way!" says t.i.ta distinctly.

Her eyes are fixed on his. For a full minute they regard each other silently. How much does she know? Rylton's very soul seems hara.s.sed with this question. That old story! A shock runs through him as he says those last words to himself. _Is_ it old? That story? _Marian!_ What is she to him now?

"As for Tom," says t.i.ta suddenly, "I tell you distinctly I shall not give him up."

"Give him up!" The phrase grates upon his ear. "What do you mean?"

demands he, his anger all aflame again.

"That I shall not insult him, or be cold to him, to please you or anybody."

"Is that your decision? Then I think it will be wise of your cousin to shorten his visit."

"Do you mean by that that you are going to be uncivil to him?"

"Yes!" shortly, and with decision.

"You will be cold to him? To Tom? To my own cousin? Maurice, Maurice! Think what you are doing!"

She has come close up to him. Her charming face is uplifted to his.

"Think what _you_ are doing," returns he hoa.r.s.ely. He catches her hands. "If you will swear to me that he is nothing to you--nothing----"

"He is my cousin," says t.i.ta, who hardly understands.

"Oh!" He almost flings her from him. "There--let it be as you will,"

says he bitterly. "It is you cousin--your house."

t.i.ta grows very pale.

"That is ungenerous," says she.

"I have all the faults, naturally." He goes towards the door, and then suddenly comes back and flings something upon the table before her. "You once told me you were fond of rings," says he.

The case has flown open, because of his pa.s.sionate throwing of it, and an exquisite diamond and pearl ring lies displayed. t.i.ta springs to her feet.

"Oh, wait! _Don't_ go! Oh, _do_ stop!" cries she, in great distress.

_"Fancy_ your thinking of me when you were in town! And what a lovely, _lovely_ ring! Oh! Maurice--I'm sorry. I am indeed!"

She holds out her hands to him. Rylton, still standing on the threshold of the door, looks back at her.

Is it an apology? An admission that she has been wrong in her dealings with her cousin? An open declaration that this night's undignified proceedings are really being repented of?

He comes slowly back to her.

"If you are sorry----" begins he.

"Oh, I am indeed. And you must let me kiss you for this darling ring. I know you _hate_ me to kiss you--but," she flings her arms round him, "I really _must_ do it now."

Instinctively his arms close round her. With a thoroughly astonished air, however, she wriggles herself free, and draws back from him.

"You have done your part beautifully," says she, with a little soft grimace. "You bore up wonderfully. I'll let you off next time as a consideration."

"I don't want to be let off," says Rylton.

"There, that will do," lifting her hand. "And I _am_ sorry--remember that."

"If you are," says he, "you will promise me--not to----"

He has grown quite serious again. He hardly knows how to put it into words, and therefore hesitates; but if only she will cease from her encouragement of her cousin----

"Oh no--never. I shall never do it again," says she earnestly. "It was so--so--dreadful of me----"

"If you see it now, I wonder you didn't see it then," says Rylton, a little stiffly; this sudden conversion brings all the past back to him.

"Well, but I didn't see it then--I always talk too fast."

She hangs her pretty head.

"I don't remember what you _said,"_ says Rylton, a little at fault.

"But--if you are honestly determined, t.i.ta, to be--er--a little more circ.u.mspect in that direction in future----"