She kept her eyes fixed on the lengthening shadows around the rocks.
"Do not take it so much to heart," she timidly counselled. "It is nothing to me--the title or the money. They made my mother's life a misery. My father was always cruel to her because of them, I do not know why. It is in his nature to be cruel, I think. He has a heart of granite, like these rocks. I hate him!" She brought out the last words in a sudden burst of passion which startled him.
"What nonsense it all is!" he exclaimed, suddenly changing his tone. "All this talk about a title which may never be revived. Let them have it between them, and the money too. Sisily, I love you, dear, love you better than all the titles and money in the world. I am not worthy of you, but I will try to be. Let us go Sway and start life ... just our two selves."
"I cannot." She stood in front of him with downcast gaze, and then raised her eyes to his.
Had he been as experienced in the ways of her sex as he believed himself to be, he would have read more in her elusive glance than her words.
"You may be sorry if you do not," he said, with a sudden access of male brutality. "There are reasons--reasons I cannot explain to you--"
"Even if there are I cannot do what you ask," she replied. Her face was still averted, but her voice was steady.
"Then do you want to go with Aunt to London?" he persisted, trying to catch a glimpse of her hidden face.
"No!" There was a strange intense note in the brief word.
"Then come with me, Sisily. I love you more than all the world. We have nobody to please except our two selves."
"You have your duty to your father to consider."
"Let us leave him out of the question," said the young man hurriedly. "He is as selfish and heartless as--his brother. I tell you again, I'll have nothing to do with this title or your father's money. I will make my own way with you by my side. I have a friend in London who would be only too glad to receive you until we could be married. You are leaving your home to-night, and you are as free as air to choose. Will you come?"
"Of course," he began again, in a different tone, as she still kept silent, "it may be that I have misunderstood. I thought that you had learnt to care for me. But if you dislike me--"