woman of fine character and Uncle Albert has a great regard for her, but why let ourselves be sidetracked by prejudice? You see this is the call of the blood, and—under Providence!—it means the grafting of a very valuable new strain upon a pretty effete one. I mean no disrespect to Bridport House, but look what the system of intermarriage has done for it. From all one hears poor Lyme was better out of the world than in it. And that parcel of stupid women! And, of course, I should never have been here at all if another couple of consumptive cousins hadn't suddenly decided to hand in their checks. So much for the feudal system, so much for inbreeding and marrying to order. No, it won't do!"
In spite of her own deep conviction, she could not hope to shake such force and such sincerity. She was bound to admit the strength of his case. But the power of his argument left her in a miserable dilemma, from which there seemed but one means of escape. There must be no half-measures.
"Let us be wise and make an end now," she said very softly.
"It's not playing fair if you do," was the ruthless answer. "Besides, as I say, Uncle Albert wants to see you."
"I am quite sure it would be far better to end it all now."
"You must go and see Uncle Albert before we decide upon anything," he said determinedly.
"I don't mind doing that, if really he wishes it." There was a queer little note of reverence in her tone, which the Tenderfoot, having intelligently anticipated, was inclined to resent as soon as he heard it. "I don't
