“I should still have to remind you,” I declared, “that as yet I have no pupils, and it takes time to get them.  Further, I have arrived at that position when immediate employment, if it is only as a breaker of stones upon the road, is a necessity to me.”

She sighed.

“My father will offer you a post,” she said slowly.

“Now you are a real Samaritan, Lady Angela,” I declared.  “I only hope that it may be so.”

Her face reflected none of my enthusiasm.

“You jump at conclusions,” she said, coldly.  “How do you know that the post will be one which you will be able to fill?”

“If your father offers it to me,” I answered, confidently, “he must take the risk of that.”

I was surprised at her speech-perhaps a little nettled.  I was an “Honours” man, an exceptional linguist, and twenty-five.  It did not seem likely to me that there was any post which the Duke might offer which, on the score of ability, at any rate, I should not be competent to fill.

“He will offer it you,” she said, looking steadily downwards on to the sands below, “and you will accept it.  I am sorry!”

“Sorry!” I exclaimed.

“Very.  If I could find you those pupils I would,” she continued.  “If I could persuade you to lay aside for once the pride which a man seems to think a part of his natural equipment, it would make me very happy.  I—­”

“Stop,” I interrupted.  “You must explain this, Lady Angela.”

She shook her head.

“Explain is just what I cannot,” she said, sadly.  “That is what I can never do.”

I was completely bewildered now.  She was looking seaward, her face steadily averted from mine.  As to her attitude towards me, I could make nothing of it.  I could not even decide whether it was friendly or inimical.  Did she want this post for some one else?  If so, surely her influence with her father would be strong enough to secure it.  She had spoken to me kindly enough.  The faint air of reserve that she seemed to carry with her everywhere, which, coupled with a certain quietness of deportment, appeared to most of the people around to indicate pride, had for these few minutes, at any rate, been lifted.  She had come down from the clouds, and spoken to me as any other woman to any other man.  And now she had wound up by throwing me into a state of hopeless bewilderment.

“Lady Angela,” I said, “I think that you owe me some explanation.  If you can assure me that it is in any way against your wishes, if you will give me the shadow of a reason why I should refuse what has not yet been offered to me—­well, I will do it.  I will do it even if I must starve.”

A little forced smile parted her lips.  She looked at me kindly.

“I have said a great deal more than I meant to, Mr. Ducaine.  I think that it would have been better if I had left most of it unsaid.  You must go your own way.  I only wanted to guard you against disappointment.”