Things had now become very serious.  Hitherto Johnny had been seated comfortably in the corner of a sofa, and had not found himself bound to move, though Miss Demolines was standing before him.  But now it was absolutely necessary that he should do something.  He must either go, or else he must make entreaty to be allowed to remain.  Would it not be expedient that he should take the lady at her word and escape?  She was still pointing to the door, and the way was open to him.  If he were to walk out now of course he would never return, and there would be the end of the Bayswater romance.  If he remained it might be that the romance would become troublesome.  He got up from his seat, and had almost resolved that he would go.  Had she not somewhat relaxed the majesty of her anger as he rose, had the fire of her eye not been somewhat quenched and the lines of her mouth softened, I think that he would have gone.  The romance would have been over, and he would have felt it had come to an inglorious end; but it would have been well for him that he should have gone.  Though the fire was somewhat quenched and the lines were somewhat softened, she was still pointing at the door.

‘Do you mean it?’ he said.

‘I do mean it—­certainly.’

‘And this is to be the end of everything?’

’I do not know what you mean by everything.  It is a very little everything to you, I should say.  I do not quite understand your everything and your everybody.’

‘I will go if you wish me to go of course.’

‘I do wish it.’

’But before I go, you must permit me to excuse myself.  I did not intend to offend you.  I merely meant—­’

’You merely meant!  Give me an honest answer to a downright question.  Are you engaged to Miss Lilian Dale?’

‘No;—­I am not.’

‘Upon your honour?’

’Do you think that I would tell you a falsehood about it?  What I meant was that it is a kind of thing that one doesn’t like talking about, merely because stories are bandied about.  People are so fond of saying that this man is engaged to that woman, and of making up tales; and it seems so foolish to contradict such things.’

‘But you know that you used to be very fond of her.’

He had taken up his hat when he had risen from the sofa, and was still standing with it ready in his hand.  He was even now half-minded to escape; and the name of Lily Dale in Miss Demoline’s mouth was so distasteful to him that he would have done so—­he would have gone in sheer disgust, had she not stood in his way, so that he could not escape without moving her, or going round behind the sofa.  She did not stir to make way for him, and it may be that she understood that he was her prisoner, in spite of her late command to him to go.  It may be, also, that she understood his vexation and the cause of it, and that she saw the expediency of leaving Lily Dale alone for the present.  At any rate, she pressed him no more upon the matter.  ‘Are we to be friends again?’ she said.