"But I am serious."
"And that is why I do not like you."
"But, Lady Catharine!"
"I should like it better did you but continue as in the past. We have met on the Row, at the routs and drums, in the country; and always I have felt free to ask any favor of Sir Arthur Pembroke. Why could it not be always thus?"
"You might ask my very life, Lady Catharine."
"Ah, there it is! When a man offers his life, 'tis time for a woman to ask nothing."
She turned from the open window, her attitude showing an unwonted weakness and dejection. Sir Arthur still stood near by, his own face frowning and uncertain.
"Lady Catharine," he broke out at length, "for years, as you know, I have sought your favor. I have dared think that sometime the day would come when—my faith! Lady Catharine, the day has come now when I feel it my right to demand the cause of anything which troubles you. And that you are troubled is plain enough. Ever since this man Law——"
"There," cried Lady Catharine, raising her hand. "I beg you to say no more."
"But I will say more! There must be a reason for this."