“I know it’s all a plot.  You’re all fighting in that little creature’s interest.”

“Meaning—?”

“Claudia Territon.  But if I can help it, Eugene shall never marry her.”

“That’s another point.”

“His friend Father Stafford will have to be considered there.”

“Do not let us drift into that.  Will you write?”

“To whom?”

“To Eugene.”

Kate looked at him with a healthy hatred.

“And you will tell Haddington he needn’t wait those three months?”

“I suppose you’re proud of yourself now!” she broke out.  “First eavesdropping, and then bullying a girl!”

“I’m not at all proud of myself, and I am, if you’d believe it, rather sorry for you.”

“I shall take care to let your friends know my opinion of you.”

“Certainly—­with any details you think advisable.  Have I your promise?  Is it any use struggling any longer?  This scene is so very unpleasant.”

“Won’t you give me a week?”

“Not a day!”

Kate drew herself up with a sort of dignity.

“I despise you and your schemes, and Eugene Lane, and Claudia Territon, and all your crew!” she allowed herself to say.

“But you promise?”

“Yes, I promise.  There!  Now, may I go?”

Ayre courteously took off his hat, and stood on one side, holding it in his hand and bowing slightly as she swept indignantly by him.

“I’ll give her a day to tell Haddington, and three days to tell Eugene.  Unless she does, I must go through it all again, and it’s damnably fatiguing.  She’s not a bad sort—­fought well when she was cornered.  But I couldn’t let Eugene do it—­I really couldn’t.  Ugh!  I’ll go back to breakfast.”

Kate was cowed.  She told Haddington.  Let us pass over that scene.  She also wrote to Eugene, addressing the letter to Millstead Manor.  Eugene was not at Millstead Manor; and if Ayre had hastily assumed that his fiancee would be in possession of his address, was it her business to undeceive him?  She was by no means inclined to do one jot more than fulfill the letter of her bond—­whereby it came to pass that Eugene did not receive the letter for nearly two months and did not know of his recovered liberty all that time.  For Haddington, in his joy, easily promised silence for a little while; it seemed only decent; and even Ayre could not refuse to agree with him that, though Eugene must be told, nobody else ought to be until Eugene had formally signified his assent to the lady’s transfer.  Ayre could not take upon himself, on his friend’s behalf, the responsibility of dispensing with this ceremony, though he was sure it would be a mere ceremony.

As for Ayre himself, when his task was done he straightway fled from Baden.  He was a hardened sinner, but he could not face Mrs. Welman.