"Distinctly with the threat of enforcement—what would be called, I suppose, coercion." "So much the better, if it's the kind of one you desire." That was the most she could say, and having made it sound as dry as possible she lapsed into a silence so pointed as to deprive him of all pretext for not leaving her. Still, nevertheless, he stood there, playing with his hat and filling the long pause with a strained and anxious smile. He wished to obey her thoroughly, to appear not to presume on any advantage he had won from her; but there was clearly something he longed for beside. While he showed this by hanging on she thought of two other things. One of these was that his countenance, after all, failed to bear out his description of his bliss. As for the other, it had no sooner come into her head than she found it seated, in spite of her resolution, on her lips. It took the form of an inconsequent question. "When did you say Mrs. Brigstock was to have gone back?"!

"And his great bright passion for another person went in. Your explanation would doubtless be perfection if he didn't love you." Fleda gave a bold dramatic laugh. "Thank you, my love—with all the best things at Ricks!"

"I explained to her fully your position and put before her much more strongly than she liked what seemed to me her absolute duty." Fleda looked very blank. "What on earth am I to see him for?" Owen waited long enough to take in the question; then with a serenity startling even to her knowledge of his nature, "I don't think I can have really loved her, you know," he replied.