“Oh no,” Edith replied, “you must not wait, you must not hope, I can never be yours.  Go, leave me.”  Before she had well finished, Ralph Coleman had seized her little white hands in his strong grasp, and said in a deep, hoarse voice, “Edith, I ask you again will you be mine?”

Surprise, astonishment, and a feeling very like indignation took possession of Edith.

“Mr. Ralph Coleman,” she said, “before I answer any more questions, release my hands.”  As he did so she raised her head proudly, and turning towards him with a heightened color, said, “I have already told you that I cannot love you, and am surprised that it is not sufficient.  I thank you for the honor you intended, but beg that you will never mention this subject to me again.”

As these words fell upon his ear, Ralph Coleman’s face changed and darkened visibly, an evil light came into his eyes, and an ugly frown contracted his brow, then, with a smile, whose meaning could not be mistaken, he said: 

“Take care, proud girl, I have sworn that you shall be mine, and by the Heavens above us, I intend to keep my vow, and neither man nor devil shall turn me from my purpose!”

Edith’s eyes flashed, her beautiful lips curled in scorn, and her whole face beamed with intense disgust, and with a voice low and deep she said,

“Have a care, sir, beware how you threaten the niece of Sir Jasper Coleman.  Before to-morrow my uncle shall be made acquainted with what has just passed, and the character of the man who has partaken so often of his hospitality, and been ever treated with kind attention, he has yet to learn how these courtesies have been returned,” and sweeping past him with a look of supreme contempt, Edith was about to pass on.

It was evident that he had gone too far and that she was not a girl to be intimidated by anything that he might say, and at once changed his tactics—­for he was an excellent actor—­“Pardon me, Miss Effingham, I know not what I am saying, I am mad.  Yes, lady, mad! for your beauty like the moon, makes all men mad, who comes within the sphere of its attraction.  Forgive me for thus offending you.”  Edith turned towards him, and with calm dignity replied, “Promise me never again to revert to this subject, and in no way further molest me, and what has just passed shall be forgiven.”  He gave the required promise.  Edith then pursued her way to the end of the conservatory, passed through the doorway, and on to the terrace where she was met by her Uncle.  He observed her heightened color, but as she made no complaint he allowed it to pass without comment.

Ralph Coleman stood for a few moments irresolute.  She must, he thought, either be aware that her uncle has left her sole heiress, or else is in love with another, Carlton perhaps.  Fool that I was to run so great a risk, and that, at the instigation of that scheming woman.  Should she say aught to her uncle on this matter, it would ruin me with him.  I will at once seek an interview and endeavour to wheedle him out of a promise to make a codicil in my favor.