An agony, which was not the agony of being discovered in a secret, obstructed her utterance for a time.  ’How can you turn upon me so when I schemed to get you here—­schemed that you might win her till I found you were married.  O, how can you!  O! . . .  O!’ She wept; and the weeping of such a nature was as harrowing as the weeping of a man.

’Your getting me here was bad policy as to your secret—­the most absurd thing in the world,’ he said, not heeding her distress.  ’I knew all, except the identity of the individual, long ago.  Directly I found that my coming here was a contrived thing, and not a matter of chance, it fixed my attention upon you at once.  All that was required was the mere spark of life, to make of a bundle of perceptions an organic whole.’

’Policy, how can you talk of policy?  Think, do think!  And how can you threaten me when you know—­you know—­that I would befriend you readily without a threat!’

‘Yes, yes, I think you would,’ he said more kindly; ’but your indifference for so many, many years has made me doubt it.’

‘No, not indifference—­’twas enforced silence.  My father lived.’

He took her hand, and held it gently.

* * * * *

‘Now listen,’ he said, more quietly and humanly, when she had become calmer:  ’Springrove must marry the woman he’s engaged to.  You may make him, but only in one way.’

‘Well:  but don’t speak sternly, AEneas!’

’Do you know that his father has not been particularly thriving for the last two or three years?’

’I have heard something of it, once or twice, though his rents have been promptly paid, haven’t they?’

’O yes; and do you know the terms of the leases of the houses which are burnt?’ he said, explaining to her that by those terms she might compel him even to rebuild every house.  ’The case is the clearest case of fire by negligence that I have ever known, in addition to that,’ he continued.

’I don’t want them rebuilt; you know it was intended by my father, directly they fell in, to clear the site for a new entrance to the park?’

’Yes, but that doesn’t affect the position, which is that Farmer Springrove is in your power to an extent which is very serious for him.’

‘I won’t do it—­’tis a conspiracy.’

‘Won’t you for me?’ he said eagerly.

Miss Aldclyffe changed colour.

‘I don’t threaten now, I implore,’ he said.

‘Because you might threaten if you chose,’ she mournfully answered.  ’But why be so—­when your marriage with her was my own pet idea long before it was yours?  What must I do?’