“It is an argument that she should never have used.  It is an argument to which you should not listen for a moment.  Make things straight indeed!  Who can tell?  There would be very little made straight by such a marriage, if it were not that I loved you.  Violet, that is my plea, and my only one.  I love you so well that I do believe that if you took me I should return to the old ways, and become as other men are, and be in time as respectable, as stupid,—­and perhaps as ill-natured as old Lady Baldock herself.”

“My poor aunt!”

“You know she says worse things of me than that.  Now, dearest, you have heard all that I have to say to you.”  As he spoke he came close to her, and put out his hand,—­but she did not touch it.  “I have no other argument to use,—­not a word more to say.  As I came here in the cab I was turning it over in my mind that I might find what best I should say.  But, after all, there is nothing more to be said than that.”

“The words make no difference,” she replied.

“Not unless they be so uttered as to force a belief.  I do love you.  I know no other reason but that why you should be my wife.  I have no other excuse to offer for coming to you again.  You are the one thing in the world that to me has any charm.  Can you be surprised that I should be persistent in asking for it?” He was looking at her still with the same gaze, and there seemed to be a power in his eye from which she could not escape.  He was still standing with his right hand out, as though expecting, or at least hoping, that her hand might be put into his.

“How am I to answer you?” she said.

“With your love, if you can give it to me.  Do you remember how you swore once that you would love me for ever and always?”

“You should not remind me of that.  I was a child then,—­a naughty child,” she added, smiling; “and was put to bed for what I did on that day.”

“Be a child still.”

“Ah, if we but could!”

“And have you no other answer to make me?”

“Of course I must answer you.  You are entitled to an answer.  Lord Chiltern, I am sorry that I cannot give you the love for which you ask.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

“Is it myself personally, or what you have heard of me, that is so hateful to you?”

“Nothing is hateful to me.  I have never spoken of hate.  I shall always feel the strongest regard for my old friend and playfellow.  But there are many things which a woman is bound to consider before she allows herself so to love a man that she can consent to become his wife.”

“Allow herself!  Then it is a matter entirely of calculation.”

“I suppose there should be some thought in it, Lord Chiltern.”

There was now a pause, and the man’s hand was at last allowed to drop, as there came no response to the proffered grasp.  He walked once or twice across the room before he spoke again, and then he stopped himself closely opposite to her.