Collingwood put his hands into his pockets, swung round upon his heels and swung back again. "I see," he said; "you mean you don't love Admaston, and won't love anybody else?"
"Oh, I don't know," Peggy replied; "but I certainly don't love anybody else. You think I am neglected. That is absurd. It was my father's wish that we should marry. George knew that I did not love him. He trusts me fully. There will be no crash."
He heard the note in her voice which told him that she was trying to persuade herself that her fears were groundless, and smiled rather grimly.
"There will be," he said. "You take my word for it. No man—not even Admaston—can stand ridicule for long. Remember, I mean to win you. I shall marry no one if I don't marry you."
She tried to speak lightly.
"Colling, don't be so silly! You are one of the best matches in England. You will marry a beautiful girl who will lead society and make you a very proud and ambitious man. Don't shake your head—that's only because you want to be gallant. Heavens! how I would do things if I were a man! You, with all your talents and your money, ought to rise to any position."
"You are mad about position," he said impatiently.
"Yes," Peggy answered. "I like men who have some big purpose in life and who fight the world and win."
"Like George Admaston!" Collingwood answered, and now for the first time there came a glint of malicious and real ill-humour over his face. It came and passed in a second, but it had been there.
"Yes," Peggy replied; "like George Admaston! He is a fighter, Colling. I think many women would love George. He is not the butterfly type—but——"