“Tell him what you like.”  But she sat down again.

“You are engaged to Eugene?”

“Of course.”

“You are also engaged to Spencer Haddington.”

“It’s untrue; you know it’s untrue.  Are you an old woman, to think a girl can’t speak to a man without being engaged to him?”

“I must congratulate you on your liberality of view, Miss Bernard.  I had hardly given you credit for it.  But you know it isn’t untrue.  You are under a promise to give Haddington your hand in three months:  not, mark you, a conditional promise—­an absolute promise.”

“That is not a happy guess.”

“It’s not a guess at all.  No doubt you mean it to be conditional.  He understood, and you meant him to understand, it as an absolute promise.”

“How dare you accuse me of such things?”

“Nothing short of absolute knowledge would so far embolden me.”

“Absolute knowledge?”

“Yes, last night.”

Kate’s rage carried her away.  She turned on him in fury.

“You listened!”

“Yes, I listened.”

“Is that what a gentleman does?”

“As a rule, it is not.”

“I despise you for a mean dastard!  I have no more to say to you.”

“Come, Miss Bernard, let us be reasonable.  We are neither of us blameless.”

“Do you think Eugene would listen to such a tale?  And such a person?”

“He might and he might not.  But Haddington would.”

“What could you tell him?”

“I could tell him that you’re making a fool of him—­keeping him dangling on till you have arranged the other affair one way or the other.  What would he say then?”

Kate knew that Haddington was already tried to the uttermost.  She knew what he would say.

“You see I could—­if you’ll allow me the metaphor—­blow you out of the water.”

“You daren’t confess how you got the knowledge.”

“Oh, dear me, yes,” said Ayre, smiling.  “When you’re opening a blind man’s eyes he doesn’t ask after your moral character.  You must consider the situation on the hypothesis that I am shameless.”

Kate was not strong enough to carry on the battle.  She had fury, but not doggedness.  She burst into tears.

“If I were doing all you say, whose fault was it?” she sobbed.  “Didn’t Eugene treat me shamefully?”

“If he flirted a little, it was in part your fault.  If you had flirted a little with Haddington, I should have said nothing.  But this—­well, this is a little strong.”

“I am a very unhappy girl,” said Kate.

“It isn’t as if you cared twopence for Eugene, you know.”

“No, I hate him!” said Kate, unwisely yielding to anger again.

“I thought so.  And you will do what I ask?”

“If I don’t, what will you do?”

“I shall write to Eugene.  I shall see Haddington; and I shall see your aunt.  I shall tell them all that I know, and how I know it.  Come, Miss Bernard, don’t be foolish.  You had better take Haddington.”