Some curiosity came over him regarding the man who had won the heart of this girl. He would have liked to know his name, and what he looked like, and if he was worthy of the prize he had won.
"Confide in me, Miss Gordon," he said, obeying an impulse he could not himself understand. "Tell me what your trouble is. Perhaps I can help you."
Beatrix shuddered in horror. Ah, if he knew, how little he would be inclined to help her. Rather he would spurn her from the proud gates of Eden.
"You are very kind," she faltered. "I thank you, but it is nothing."
He looked at her a little scornfully.
"I have heard that women cry for nothing," he said. "I suppose it must be true, as I now hear it confirmed by one of the sex."
She seldom saw him except at meals, and a little while in the drawing-room of an evening. The most of his time was spent in the library or out riding and walking. But one day he came to her abruptly.
"I am going up to New York for a few days," he said. "I hope you will make use of my library while I am out of the way."
"Thank you," she said, radiantly.