softer than her words, and the enigmatical smile on her lips suggesting that there was some subtlety of meaning behind her words to which he was not admitted, all these contradictions of her mood stirred his blood. At this announcement he stared blankly, ejaculating, "You are not in earnest?"
She felt his keen and angry eyes fixed upon her, but did not quail.
"I am absolutely in earnest."
"You, Ethel Fairlie, intend to offer yourself to that manikin?"
She did not cringe at the note of scorn in his voice, but made a little courtesy.
"I am obeying Aunt Laura's express wishes," she replied.
He made no answer in words, but before she understood his movement he had drawn her suddenly into his arms. For one moment she resisted, then with a little cry, made up half of laughter and half of tears, she hid her face on his breast and clung to him.
"Oh, you love me," he said, turned back her head, and kissed her.
She broke away, quivering from head to foot.
"I have to be rational. I have to be rational for us both," she exclaimed, "and you make it so hard."
"Rational? You are mine, and I am yours. That is rational. Everything else is irrational," he cried, laughing.
She ran back to him, took both his hands in hers, and looked up.
"Let us postpone happiness, say six months," she said.
Basil stared at her, honestly puzzled.
"Happiness is not the only thing in the world."
"Exactly."
"We are here simply to do what is right; not doing what is right, there is no enjoyment, no reward worth having. There are two many wrong things in the world already."
"What I am going to do is not wrong," repeated Ethel.
"So far as I can understand what you are going to do, it is monstrous. Tell me you will give up this idea of going to Riverbend."
An hour later Ethel could at least tell herself that the ordeal was over. She had persisted, and although she had felt that every declaration of her absolute need of doing this thing was weak, the weakest strand of all her logic had finally carried her over. Out of all his arguments and entreaties there remained a specific remembrance of this one speech of Basil's:
"I could give you up to a worthy fate, but not to this. To care for money beyond everything else! Hitherto you have agreed with me that although in this world money is a god, it is a false god, and that it is a duty to despise a false god. In your heart of hearts you despise this money. You despise the man too. I cannot believe that you will ever go to Riverbend."
