"No--since you force me into ungracious speech."

"Thank you," she said, bitterly; "I am answered--there can be no
mistake. Sir Edgar, you speak your mind with honorable frankness. I have
given you every chance to correct yourself, should you be mistaken. I
am, perhaps, more richly endowed than you think for. Would my dowry make
any difference?"

"No," I replied, sternly; "and, Coralie, pray pardon me; it is high time
that this should end."

"It shall end at once," she replied. "It is to be war between us, Sir
Edgar--war to the knife!"

"There is no need for war," I said, wearily. "Let us forget all about
it. There will be no need for you to do anything romantic, Coralie.
Stay on at Crown Anstey, and make yourself happy with Clare."

"Yes," she replied, with that strange smile, "I shall remain at Crown
Anstey--I have no thought of going away."

She turned as though she would quit the room. I went up to her.

"Good night, Coralie. Shake hands, and let us part friends."

"When I touch your hand again, Sir Edgar, it will be under very
different circumstances. Good night."

She swept from the room with the dignity of an outraged queen, leaving
me unhappy, bewildered and anxious.