“Caught at last.  You have given me a pretty hunt, Angela.”

The violent start she gave effectually carried out her purpose as regards the honeysuckle, which snapped in two under the strain of her backward jerk, and she turned round upon him panting with fear and exertion, the flowery bough grasped within her hand.

“Am I, then, a wild creature, that you should hunt me so?”

“Yes, you are the loveliest and the wildest of creatures, and, now I have caught you, you must listen to me.”

“I will not listen to you; you have nothing to say to me that can interest me.  I will not listen to you.”

George laughed a little—­a threatening, nervous laugh.

“I am accustomed to have my own way, Angela, and I am not going to give it up now.  You must and you shall listen.  I have got my opportunity at last, and I mean to use it.  I am sorry to have to speak so roughly, but you have only yourself to thank; you have driven me to it.”

His determination frightened her, and she took refuge in an armour of calm and freezing contempt.

“I don’t understand you,” she said.

“On the contrary, you understand me very well.  You always avoid me; I can never see you, try how I will.  Perhaps,” he went on, still talking quite quietly, “if you knew what a hell there is in my heart and brain you would not treat me so.  I tell you that I am in torture,” and the muscles of the pallid face twitched in a way that went far to confirm his words.

“I do not understand your meaning, unless, indeed, you are trying to frighten and insult me, as you have done before,” answered Angela.

Poor girl, she did not know what else to say; she was not of a nervous disposition, but there was something about George’s manner that alarmed her very much, and she glanced anxiously around to see if any one was within call, but the place was lonely as the grave.

“There is no need for you to look for help, I wish neither to frighten nor insult you; my suit is an honourable one enough.  I wish you to promise to marry me, that is all; you must and shall promise it, I will take no refusal.  You were made for me and I for you; it is quite useless for you to resist me, for you must marry me at last.  I love you, and by that right you belong to me.  I love you—­I love you.”

“You—­love—­me—­you——­”

“Yes, I do, and why should you look at me like that?  I cannot help it, you are so beautiful; if you knew your loveliness, you would understand me.  I love those grey eyes of yours, even when they flash and burn as they do now.  Ah! they shall look softly at me yet, and those sweet lips that curl so scornfully shall shape themselves to kiss me.  Listen, I loved you when I first saw you there in the drawing-room at Isleworth, I loved you more and more all the time that I was ill, and now I love you to madness.  So you see, Angela, you must marry me soon.”