“Oh, intervene as much as you like, Miss Guion,” he said, honestly.

“Well, then, isn’t it true that there are things you’ve wanted—­wanted very much—­and never had?  If so—­and I marry Colonel Ashley—­”

“Hold on!  Let’s see what you mean by—­things.  If it’s visiting round in high society—­”

He tried to render as scorn his dismay at this touching on his weakness.

“I don’t mean anything so crude.  Visiting round in high society, as you call it, would at best be only the outward and visible sign of an inward—­and, perhaps, spiritual—­experience of the world.  Isn’t that what you’ve wanted?  You see, if I do marry Colonel Ashley, I could—­don’t be offended!—­I could open a door to you that you’ve never been able to force for yourself.”

“You mean get me into society.”

“You needn’t be so disdainful.  I didn’t mean that—­exactly.  But there are people in the world different from those you meet in business—­and in their way more interesting—­certainly more picturesque.  They’d like you if they knew you—­and I had an idea that you—­rather craved—­After all, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.  It’s only making the world bigger for oneself, and—­”

Backing away from the stairway, he stood on a rug in the middle of the hall, his head hung like a young bull about to charge.

“What made you think of it?”

“Isn’t that obvious?  After you’ve done so much for me—­”

“I haven’t done anything for you, Miss Guion.  I’ve said so a good many times.  It wouldn’t be right for me to take payment for what you don’t owe me.  Besides, there’s nothing I want.”

“That is to say,” she returned, coldly, “you prefer the role of benefactor.  You refuse to accept the little I might be able to do.  I admit that it isn’t much—­but it’s something—­something within my power, and which I thought you might like.  But since you don’t—­”

“It’s no question of liking; it’s one of admitting a principle.  If you offer me a penny it’s in part payment for a pound, while I say, and say again, that you don’t owe me anything.  If there’s a debt at all it’s your father’s—­and it’s not transferable.”

“Whether it’s transferable or not is a matter that rests between my father and me—­and, of course, Colonel Ashley, if I marry him.”

He looked at her with sudden curiosity.  “Why do you always say that with—­an ’if’?”

She reflected an instant.  “Because,” she said, slowly, “I can’t say it in any other way.”

He straightened himself; he advanced again to the foot of the stairway.

“Is that because of any reason of—­his?”

“It’s because of a number of reasons, one of which is mine.  It’s this—­that I find it difficult to go away with one man—­when I have to turn my back upon the overwhelming debt I owe another.  I do owe it—­I do.  The more I try to ignore it, the more it comes in between me and—­”