flings himself at her feet and catches her dress in his hands to detain
her.

"Have pity on me," he cries imploringly; "it is my unhappy love for
you that has driven me to speak thus! Why is Adrian to have all, and I
nothing? He has title, lands, position--above and beyond everything, the
priceless treasure of your love, whilst I am bankrupt in all. Show me
some mercy--some kindness!"

They are both so agitated that they fail to hear the sound of
approaching footsteps.

"Release me, sir," cries Florence imperiously.

"Nay; first answer me one question," entreats Dynecourt. "Do you love my
cousin?"

"I care nothing for Sir Adrian!" replies Florence distinctly, and in a
somewhat raised tone, her self-pride being touched to the quick.

Two figures who have entered the gallery by the second door at the upper
end of it, hearing these words uttered in an emphatic tone, start and
glance at the _tableau_ presented to their view lower down. They
hesitate, and, even as they do so, they can see Arthur Dynecourt seize
Florence Delmaine's hand, and, apparently unrebuked, kiss it
passionately.

"Then I shall hope still," he says in a low but impressive voice, at
which the two who have just entered turn and beat a precipitate retreat,
fearing that they may be seen. One is Sir Adrian, the other Mrs. Talbot.