His calm was gone.  He leaned towards her urgently, his dark face aglow with a light that was not passion.  She had deemed him furious, and behold, she had him at her feet!  Her ogre was gone for ever.  He had crumbled at a touch.  She saw before her a man, a man who loved her, a man whom she might eventually have come to love but for—­

She caught her breath in a sharp sob, and put forth a hand in pleading.  “Eustace, don’t!  Please don’t!  I can’t bear it.  You—­you must set me free!”

“You are free as air,” he said.

“Am I?  Then don’t—­don’t ask me to bind myself again!  For I can’t—­I can’t.  I want to go away.  I want to be quiet.”  She broke down suddenly.  The strain was past, the battle over.  She had vanquished him, how she scarcely knew; but her own brief strength was tottering now.  “Let me go home!” she begged.  “Tell Scott I’ve gone!  Tell everyone there won’t be a wedding after all!  Say I’m dreadfully sorry!  It’s my fault—­all my fault!  I ought to have known!” Her tears blinded her, silenced her.  She turned towards the door.

“Won’t you say good-bye to me?” Eustace said.

Her voice was low and very steady.  The glow was gone.  He was calm again, absolutely calm.  With the failure of that one urgent appeal, he seemed to have withdrawn his forces, accepting defeat.

She turned back gropingly.  “Good-bye—­good-bye—­” she whispered, “and—­thank you!”

He put his arm around her, and bending kissed her forehead.  “Don’t cry, dear!” he said.

His manner was perfectly kind, supremely gentle.  She hardly knew him thus.  Again her heart smote her in overwhelming self-reproach.  “Oh, Eustace, forgive me for hurting you so—­forgive me—­for all I’ve said!”

“For telling me the truth?” he said.  “No, I don’t forgive you for that.”

She broke down utterly and sobbed aloud.  “I wish—­I wish I hadn’t!  How could I do it?  I hate myself!”

“No—­no,” he said.  “It’s all right.  You’ve done nothing wrong.  Run home, child!  Don’t cry!  Don’t cry!”

His hand touched her hair under the soft cap, touched and lingered.  But he did not hold her to him.

“Run home!” he said again.

“And—­and—­you won’t—­won’t—­tell—­Scott?” she whispered through her tears.

“But I don’t think even I am such a bounder as that!” he said gently.  “Do you?”

She lifted her face impulsively.  She kissed him with quivering lips.  “No—­no.  I didn’t mean it.  Good-bye Oh, good-bye!”

He kissed her in return.  “Good-bye!” he said.

And so they parted.

CHAPTER XIX

THE FURNACE

The bridal dress with its filmy veil still lay in its white box—­a fairy garment that had survived the catastrophe.  Dinah sat and looked at it dully.  The light of her single candle shimmered upon the soft folds.  How beautiful it was!