"Yes, I do. That is what they tell me you are. Is it not true? Don't you go to races?"
"I should be quite willing to undertake never to put my foot on a racecourse again this minute. I will do so now if you will only ask it of me."
She paused a moment, half thinking that she would ask it, but at last she determined against it.
"No," she said; "if you think it proper to stay away, you can do so without my asking it. I have no right to make such a request. If you think races are bad, why don't you stay away of your own accord?"
"They are bad," he said.
"Then why do you go to them?"
"They are bad, and I do go to them. They are very bad, and I go to them very often. But I will stay away and never put my foot on another racecourse if you, my cousin, will ask me."
"That is nonsense."
"Try me. It shall not be nonsense. If you care enough about me to wish to save me from what is evil, you can do it. I care enough about you to give up the pursuit at your bidding."
As he said this he looked down into her eyes, and she knew that the full weight of his gaze was upon her. She knew that his words and his looks together were intended to impress her with some feeling of his love for her. She knew at the moment, too, that they gratified her. And she remembered also in the same moment that her Cousin George was a black sheep.