Everard, you have followed me in secret, and without my permission. I cannot talk here with you, alone. I absolutely refuse to do so; now or
at any other time. If you have anything especial to say to me you will
find me at home at noon to-morrow. Remember, I do not ask you to come. I
simply yield to the pressure of your importunity. And remember also that
I do not authorise you in any way to resume this conversation. In fact,
I forbid it. If you come to my house you must control yourself to my
wish!' Then with a stately bow, whose imperious distance inflamed him more than
ever, and without once looking back she took her way home, all agitated
inwardly and with fast beating heart. CHAPTER XXII--FIXING THE BOUNDS


Leonard came towards Normanstand next forenoon in considerable mental
disturbance. In the first place he was seriously in love with Stephen,
and love is in itself a disturbing influence. Leonard's love was all of the flesh; and as such had power at present to
disturb him, as it would later have power to torture him. Again, he was
disturbed by the fear of losing Stephen, or rather of not being able to
gain her. At first, ever since she had left him on the path from the
hilltop till his interview the next day, he had looked on her possession
as an 'option,' to the acceptance of which circumstances seemed to be
compelling him. But ever since, that asset seemed to have been
dwindling; and now he was almost beginning to despair. He was altogether
cold at heart, and yet highly strung with apprehension, as he was shown
into the blue drawing-room. Stephen came in alone, closing the door behind her. She shook hands with
him, and sat down by a writing-table near the window, pointing to him to
sit on an ottoman a little distance away. The moment he sat down he
realised that he was at a disadvantage; he was not close to her, and he
could not get closer without manifesting his intention of so doing. He
wanted to be closer, both for the purpose of his suit and for his own
pleasure; the proximity of Stephen began to multiply his love for her. He
thought that to-day she looked better than ever, of a warm radiant beauty
which touched his senses with unattainable desire. She could not but
notice the passion in his eyes, and instinctively her eyes wandered to a
silver gong placed on the table well within reach. The more he glowed,
the more icily calm she sat, till the silence between them began to grow
oppressive. She waited, determined that he should be the first to speak. Recognising the helplessness of silence, he began huskily:

'I came here to-day in the hope that you would listen to me.' Her
answer, given with a conventional smile, was not helpful:

'I am listening.' 'I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I did not accept your offer. If I
had know when I was coming that day that you loved me . . . ' She
interrupted him, calm of voice, and with uplifted hand:

'I never said so, did I? Surely I could not have said such a thing! I
certainly don't remember it?' Leonard was puzzled. 'You certainly made me think so. You asked me to marry you, didn't you?' Her answer came calmly, though in a low voice:

'I did.' 'Then if you didn't love me, why did you ask me to marry you?' It was
his nature to be more or less satisfied when he had put any one opposed
to him proportionally in the wrong; and now his exultation at having put
a poser manifested itself in his tone. This, however, braced up Stephen
to cope with a difficult and painful situation. It was with a calm,
seemingly genial frankness, that she answered, smilingly:

'Do you know, that is what has been puzzling me from that moment to
this!' Her words appeared to almost stupefy Leonard. This view of the
matter had not occurred to him, and now the puzzle of it made him angry. 'Do you mean to say,' he asked hotly, 'that you asked a man to marry you
when you didn't even love him?' 'That is exactly what I do mean! Why I did it is, I assure you, as much
a puzzle to me as it is to you. I have come to the conclusion that it
must have been from my vanity. I suppose I wanted to dominate somebody;
and you were the weakest within range!' 'Thank you!' He was genuinely angry by this time, and, but for a
wholesome fear of the consequences, would have used strong language. 'I don't see that I was the weakest about.' Somehow this set her on her
guard. She wanted to know more, so she asked:

'Who else?' 'Harold An Wolf! You had him on a string already!' The name came like a
sword through her heart, but the bitter comment braced her to further
caution. Her voice seemed to her to sound as though far away:

'Indeed! And may I ask you how you came to know that?' Her voice seemed
so cold and sneering to him that he lost his temper still further. 'Simply because he told me so himself.' It pleased him to do in ill turn
to Harold. He did not forget that savage clutch at his throat; and he
never would. Stephen's senses were all alert. She saw an opportunity of
learning something, and went on with the same cold voice:

'And I suppose it was that pleasing confidence which was the cause of
your refusal of my offer of marriage; of which circumstance you have so
thoughtfully and so courteously reminded me.' This, somehow, seemed of
good import to Leonard. If he could show her that his intention to marry
her was antecedent to Harold's confidence, she might still go back to her
old affection for him. He could not believe that it did not still exist;
his experience of other women showed him that their love outlived their
anger, whether the same had been hot or cold. 'It had nothing in the world to do with it. He never said a word about
it till he threatened to kill me--the great brute!' This was learning
something indeed! She went on in the same voice:

'And may I ask you what was the cause of such sanguinary intention?' 'Because he knew that I was going to marry you!' As he spoke he felt
that he had betrayed himself; he went on hastily, hoping that it might
escape notice:

'Because he knew that I loved you. Oh! Stephen, don't you know it now! Can't you see that I love you; and that I want you for my wife!' 'But did he threaten to kill you out of mere jealousy? Do you still go
in fear of your life? Will it be necessary to arrest him?' Leonard was
chagrined at her ignoring of his love-suit, and in his self-engrossment
answered sulkily:

'I'm not afraid of him! And, besides, I believe he has bolted. I called
at his house yesterday, and his servant said they hadn't heard a word
from him.' Stephen's heart sank lower and lower. This was what she had
dreaded. She said in as steady a voice as she could muster:

'Bolted! Has he gone altogether?' 'Oh, he'll come back all right, in time. He's not going to give up the
jolly good living he has here!' 'But why has he bolted? When he threatened to kill you did he give any
reason?' There was too much talk about Harold. It made him angry; so he
answered in an offhand way:

'Oh, I don't know. And, moreover, I don't care!'