AN INTERLUDE
as Mrs. Beaumont." He looked almost apologetic, in spite of his cynical pose. "Mrs. Beaumont," he repeated, pulling his flaxen moustache and watching the effect.
She looked into his eyes speechless. "I am learning fast," she said slowly, at last.
He thought the time had come for an emotional attack. "Jessie," he said, with a sudden change of voice, "I know all this is mean, is villainous. But do you think that I have done all this scheming, all this subterfuge, for any other object———"
She did not seem to listen to his words. "I shall ride home," she said abruptly.
"To her?"
She winced.
"Just think," said he, "what she could say to you after this."
"Anyhow, I shall leave you now."
"Yes? And go———"
"Go somewhere to earn my living, to be a free woman, to live without conventionality———"
"My dear girl, do let us be cynical. You haven't money and you haven't credit. No one would take you in. It's one of two things: go back to your stepmother, or—trust to me."
"How can I?"
"Then you must go back to her." He paused momentarily, to let this consideration have its proper weight. "Jessie, I did not mean to say the things I did. Upon my honour, I lost my head when I spoke so. If you will, forgive me. I am a man. I could not help myself. Forgive me, and I promise you———"
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