Mrs. Lavender clicked her tongue; but after a while she said: "Well, make the black flower. We can try it."

Melisande felt happy as she packed Mrs. Lavender's bag.

"No need to pack for Mr. Lavender," said Mrs. Lavender. "He'll do that himself."

"Yes, Madam."

She was so happy, she could have sung, but the only songs which came to her mind were those which she had heard Fermor sing. "Go lovely rose" and "The Banks of Allan Water"—and most poignant of all "O, wert thou in the cauld blast."

A feeling of relief swept through the house when the Lavenders left.

"Two days of peace and quiet," said Mrs. Gunter. "That will be nice. Let's drink to the next two days in a glass of my ginger."

Sarah came down and they were very merry.

And that afternoon Thorold called for Melisande, and they walked in the Park together. He looked a little sad, a little melancholy.

"Is something wrong, Thorold?" she asked.

"No ... not if you love me."

"But I have said I will marry you."

"You told me about the young man your father wished you to marry, and how hurt you were because you realized your dowry had played a deciding factor. I have wondered whether, if you were in a happy home, your future assured, brothers and sisters and fond parents about you ... you would marry me?"

"Oh, Thorold," she said impulsively, "I am so sorry."

"Forget I said it. If I can be the means of rescuing you from what is uncongenial, I shall be only too glad to do so."

"But ... I am fond of you. I am sure of it."

"You don't trust me, Melisande."

"But I do. I do."

"Not completely. You won't even tell me the name of your father."

"Oh, Thorold, so it is that! I understand how you feel. It is a hateful feeling. I will tell you my father's name. Of course I will. There shall be no secrets between us. He is Sir Charles Trevenning of Trevenning in Cornwall. He is a man of importance in his own county, and known in London too. You understand why I did not want to tell. Not because I did not trust you, but because I knew that he so ardently wished our relationship to be kept a secret."

"I understand. Of course I understand. You shouldn't have told me, Melisande. I shouldn't have put it like that. But I am glad, glad because you trust me now. We are going to be happy, my darling. Everything will be all right for us now."

That was the end of peace; the end of her brief dream. And now she could wonder at her own folly, at her own naivety which had led her into the trap. There was no excuse this time. It was not her first glimpse of the world. The world was full of evil and she could not, it seemed, learn her lesson.

They met in the Park next day.

Did she notice the difference in him as soon as they met? Was that tenderness, which had warmed and comforted her, replaced by hardness, cupidity, meanness ... criminality?

"My dear," he said; and he took her hand and kissed it.

They walked arm in arm. She sensed that he was trying to tell her something.

"Melisande," he said at length, "I have a confession to make."

She was startled. She turned to him; he was smiling and she looked in vain for that gentleness which she had loved.

"I am in debt. Deeply in debt. In fact I'm in a bit of a mess."

"Oh, Thorold ... money?"

"Money, of course. It's that fool Lavender's fault. He has so many tips to give away ... so many 'certainties'. He is all right. He has a rich wife, and he knows how to get round her. Melisande, I'm afraid that if I don't settle up some of these debts I shall have to resign my commission."

"But surely it's not as bad as that."

"It's as bad as it can be."

"You have never mentioned these debts before."

"I didn't want to worry you. I was afraid you'd despise me. You see, life in the Brigade of Guards is expensive, and for a man with such a small income as I have ..." He shrugged his shoulders.

"I suppose so ... if you bet on horses."

"One has to be in the swim, you know."

"I am sorry, Thorold."

"I knew you would be... . That's why I'm sure you'll help me."

"I... help? But I have no money. If I had, gladly would I help."

He smiled at her. "Why, my dear, you can help. There's your dowry. That'll settle everything and set us up nicely."

"My dowry! I don't understand."

"But your father was ready to give you a dowry before. He'll do so now."

"But ... I do not see him. I ... I could not accept. I ... It is so different."

"It is not different at all. He chose someone for you to marry, and there was a dowry waiting for you. Now you've made your own choice, but the dowry will still be forthcoming."

"I do not think so."

"But why not, Melisande? Be reasonable."

"So you, too, are eager to marry me because I might have a dowry!"

"My dear girl, how did I know your father was a rich man? You only told me yesterday that he is Sir Charles Trevenning."

"Oh, what a fool I was to tell you that!"

"Listen to me, please, Melisande. I love you. I wanted to marry you the moment I first set eyes on you. I knew there would be difficulties about money. They worried me considerably, so I put off telling you the position. I didn't want to worry you too. And then ... you tell me that you have a rich father who was ready to give you a dowry. Don't you see! It's like the answer to a prayer."

"How attractive that dowry is!"

"When I asked you to marry me I had no notion that there would be a dowry. You know that. I would be ready to marry you— as you must realize—if you hadn't a penny in the world. But ... since it is not the case ... I am delighted. Who wouldn't be—and say so if he were an honest man?"

"I do not wish to talk of this any more."

"Let us be calm. You do believe that if you were penniless I would marry you just the same?"

"I am penniless."

"You need not be when you have a father whose conscience is crying out to be soothed."

"I feel I have met you for the first time to-day."

"Now listen, Melisande."

"I wish to listen no more."

"You must listen to me. You are going to marry me."

"You are wrong. I am not going to marry you."

"You change your mind quickly."

"You have changed it for me."

"Melisande, I understand how you feel. That man hurt your feelings. You have been disillusioned, I know. I understand. But I love you. I want to take you away from that impossible woman, but for God's sake let us be reasonable. I'm in low water. A little money could put me right. Your father is wealthy. A thousand or so would mean nothing to him. He ought to give you an income. He owes it to you. Why shouldn't he, and why shouldn't we accept it?"

"Goodbye," she said firmly.

Now he was angry. "You are a fool, Melisande. An adorable fool, it's true, but nevertheless a fool. You have such crazy notions. He will be glad ... glad to do this."

"He will not be glad, and there shall be no question of his doing it. He shall never hear of it."

"My dear girl, don't you understand, he'll be relieved to hear of you. He's wondering what's happened to you."

"I despise you," she cried. "I see right through you. 'You don't trust me!' you said. 'Tell me his name.' And now, because I have been a fool, you know it... and you are threatening me ... and him."

"I? Threatening! My dear, you're becoming hysterical."

"I hate you. I hate all men. You are all evil ... every one of you. I wish I had stayed in the Convent. I wish I had never met any of you."

"My dear, you are attracting attention. I beg of you, speak more quietly. Now ... you are not looking at this clearly."

She allowed him to lead her to a seat and she sat down.

"I am looking at it clearly."

"But he owes it to you. He would, I am sure, be pleased to help you."

"I will not ask him for money."

"Think of our future, Melisande."

"You and I have no future together."

"You don't mean that. I love you and you love me. Now, listen. Meet me here in the Park to-morrow ... at this time ... at this spot. I am sure when you are calmer, when you have thought this out, you will see my point."

"I never shall. And I never want to see you again."

"Melisande, I beg of you, be reasonable."

"I am being reasonable, and my reason tells me to despise you."

"But you and I are to marry. We are not rich and I have been foolish. You have a rich father ..."

"You will have to settle your affairs without my rich father."

"Now, Melisande, please ..."

"I shall never allow you to ask him for money."

There was a short silence, then he said slowly: "I could ask without your consent, you know."

She turned to look at him in astonishment. "You think he would give my dowry to a man whom I had decided not to marry!"

"No. But he might give the equivalent of the dowry to a man who knows that he has an illegitimate daughter."

She had turned pale. She stood up. She wanted to move away quickly, but her trembling legs would not allow her to do so.

"You ... would never do that!"

"Of course, Melisande, of course I would not." He stood up beside her and gripped her arm.

"But ... that is blackmail^

She wanted to throw him off, to run away, never to see his face again. But he was holding her fast.

She thought of Sir Charles at Trevenning receiving a threatening letter and thinking that she had had a hand in it. And she had! She had been foolish to trust this man with her father's name.