A Knight of the Nineteenth Century. Edward Payson Roe

and annoyance.

      "It is not absurd. How can you trifle with the deepest and holiest feelings that a man—of which a man—feels?" he retorted passionately, and growing a little incoherent.

      "I don't know anything about such feelings, and therefore cannot trifle with them."

      "What did your blushes mean this evening? You cannot deceive me; I have seen the world and know it."

      "I am not the world. I am only a school-girl, and if you had good sense you would not talk so to me. You appear to think that I must feel and do as you wish. What right have you to act so?"

      "The truest and strongest right. You know well that I love you with my whole soul. I have given you my heart—all there is of me. Have I not a right to ask your love in return?"

      Laura was conscious of a strange thrill as she heard these passionate words, for they appeared to echo in a depth of her nature of which she had not been conscious before.

      The strong and undoubting assurance which possessed him carried for a moment a strange mastery over her mind. As he so vehemently asserted the only claim which a man can urge, her woman's soul trembled, and for a moment she felt almost powerless to resist. His unreserved giving appeared to require that he should receive also. She would have soon realized, however, that Haldane's attitude was essentially that of an Oriental lover, who, in his strongest attachments, is ever prone to maintain the imperative mood, and to consult his own heart rather than that of the woman he loves. While in Laura's nature there was unusual gentleness and a tendency to respect and admire virile force, she was too highly bred in our Western civilization not to resent as an insult any such manifestation of this force as would make the quest of her love a demand rather than a suit, after once recognizing such a spirit. She was now confused, however, and after an awkward moment said:

      "I have not asked or wished you to give me so much. I don't think you realize what you are saying. If you would only remember that I am scarcely more than a child you would not talk so foolishly. Please let me go to my aunt."

      "No, not till you give me some hope. Your blushes prove that you are a woman."

      "They prove that I am excessively annoyed and vexed."

      "Oh, Laura, after raising so many hopes you cannot—you cannot——"

      "I haven't meant to raise any hopes."

      "Why were you so kind to me at first?"

      "Well, if you must know, my aunt wished me to be. If I had dreamed you would act so I would not have spoken to you."

      "What motive could Mrs. Arnot have had for such a request?"

      "I will tell you, and when you know the whole truth you will see how mistaken you are, and how greatly you wrong me. Aunt wanted me to help her keep you home evenings, and away from all sorts of horrid places to which you were fond of going."

      These words gave Haldane a cue which he at once followed, and he said eagerly:

      "If you will be my wife, I will do anything you wish. I will make myself good, great, and renowned for your sake. Your smiles will keep me from every temptation. But I warn you that if you cast me off—if you trifle with me—I shall become a reckless man. I shall be ruined. My only impulse will be self-destruction."

      Laura was now thoroughly incensed, and she said indignantly:

      "Mr. Haldane, I should think you would be ashamed to talk in that manner. It's the same as if a spoiled boy should say: If you don't give me what I wish, right or wrong, I will do something dreadful. If I ever do love a man, it will be one that I can look up to and respect, and not one who must be coaxed and bribed to give up disgusting vices. If you do not open that door I will call uncle."

      The door opened, and Mr. Arnot entered with a heavy frown upon his brow.

CHAPTER VI

       Table of Contents

      "GLOOMY GRANDEUR"

      Mr. Arnot's library was on the side of the hall opposite to the drawing-room. Though he had been deeply intent upon his writing, he at last became conscious that there were some persons in the parlor who were talking in an unusual manner, and he soon distinguished the voice of his niece. Haldane's words, manner, and glances at the dinner-table at once recurred to him, and stepping silently to the drawing-room door, he heard the latter part of the colloquy narrated in the previous chapter. He was both amused and angry, and while relieved to find that his niece was indulging in no "sentimental nonsense," he had not a particle of sympathy or charity for Haldane, and he determined to give the young man a "lesson that would not soon be forgotten."

      "What is the meaning of this ridiculous scene?" he demanded sternly.

       "What have you been saying to this child?"

      Haldane at first had been much abashed by the entrance of his employer; but his tone and manner stung the young fellow into instant anger, and he replied haughtily:

      "She is not a child, and what I have said concerns Miss Romeyn only."

      "Ah, indeed! I have no right to protect my niece in my own house!"

      "My intentions toward Miss Romeyn are entirely honorable, and there is no occasion for protection."

      Reassured by her uncle's presence, Laura's nervous apprehension began to give place to something like pity for the youth, who had assumed an attitude befitting high tragedy, and toward whom she felt that she had been a little harsh. Now that he was confronted by one who was disposed to be still more harsh, womanlike, she was inclined to take his part. She would be sorry to have him come to an open rupture with his employer on her account, so she said eagerly:

      "Please, uncle, do me the favor of letting the whole matter drop. Mr. Haldane has seen his mistake by this time. I am going home to-morrow, and the affair is too absurd to make any one any more trouble."

      Before he could answer, Mrs. Arnot, hearing their voices, and surmising the trouble which she had hoped to prevent, now appeared also, and by her good sense and tact brought the disagreeable scene to a speedy close.

      "Laura, my dear," she said quietly, "go up to my room, and I will join you there soon." The young girl gladly obeyed.

      There were times when Mrs. Arnot controlled her strong-willed husband in a manner that seemed scarcely to be reconciled with his dictatorial habits. This fact might be explained in part by her wealth, of which he had the use, but which she still controlled, but more truly by her innate superiority, which ever gives supremacy to the nobler and stronger mind when aroused.

      Mr. Arnot had become suddenly and vindictively angry with his clerk, who, instead of being overwhelmed with awe and shame at his unexpected appearance, was haughty and even defiant. One of the strongest impulses of this man was to crush out of those in his employ a spirit of independence and individual self-assertion. The idea of a part of his business machinery making such a jarring tumult in his own house! He proposed to instantly cast away the cause of friction, and insert a more stolid human cog-wheel in Haldane's place.

      But when his wife said, in a tone which she rarely used:

      "Mr. Arnot, before anything further is said upon this matter, I would like to see you in your library"—he followed her without a word.

      Before the library door closed, however, he could not forbear snarling.

      "I told you that your having this big spoiled boy as an inmate of the house would not work well."

      "He has been offering himself to Laura, has he not?" she said quietly.

      "I suppose that is the way in which you would explain his absurd, maudlin words. A pitiful offer it was, which she, like a sensible girl, declined without thanks."

      "What course do you propose to take toward