"Philip Baronet, I'm going to ask you something. You may hate me if you want to."
"But I don't want to," I assured her.
"I had a letter from Mr. Tillhurst to-day. He does want to come up," she went on; "he says also that the girl you introduced to me in your father's office, what's her name?—I've forgotten it."
"So have I. Go on!"
"He says she is to be married at Christmas to somebody in Springvale. You used to like her. Tell me, do you care for her still? You could like somebody else just as well, couldn't you, Phil?"
I put my hand gently over her hand resting on my arm, and said nothing.
"Could you, Phil? She doesn't want you any more. How long will you care for her?"
"Till death us do part," I answered, in a low voice.
She dropped my arm, and even in the shadows I could see her eyes flash.
"I hate you," she cried, passionately.