the　quality　that　has　its　source　in　shame。　　In　a　second　he　was　on　his
  feet　before　her；　towering　to　the　full　of　his　lean　height。　　The　words
  came　from　him　in　a　hot　stream；　which　for　reckless　passion　by　far
  outvied　his　erstwhile　amatory　address。
  〃My　station？〃　he　cried；　throwing　wide　his　arms。　　〃What　fault　lies
  in　my　station？　　I　am　a　secretary；　a　scholar；　and　so；　by　academic
  right；　a　gentleman。　　Nay；　Mademoiselle；　never　laugh；　do　not　mock　me
  yet。　　In　what　do　you　find　me　less　a　man　than　any　of　the　vapid
  caperers　that　fill　your　father's　salon？　　Is　not　my　shape　as　good？
  Are　not　my　arms　as　strong；　my　hands　as　deft；　my　wits　as　keen；　and
  my　soul　as　true？　　Aye；〃　he　pursued　with　another　wild　wave　of　his
  long　arms；　〃my　attributes　have　all　these　virtues；　and　yet　you　scorn
  me　…　you　scorn　me　because　of　my　station；　so　you　say！〃
  How　she　had　angered　him！　　All　the　pent…up　gall　of　years　against　the
  supercilia　of　the　class　from　which　she　sprang　surged　in　that　moment
  to　his　lips。　　He　bethought　him　now　of　the　thousand　humiliations　his
  proud　spirit　had　suffered　at　their　hands　when　he　noted　the　disdain
  with　which　they　addressed　him；　speaking　to　him　…　because　he　was
  compelled　to　carve　his　living　with　a　quill　…　as　though　he　were　less
  than　mire。　　It　was　not　so　much　against　her　scorn　of　him　that　he
  voiced　his　bitter　grievance；　but　against　the　entire　noblesse　of
  France；　which　denied　him　the　right　to　carry　a　high　head　because　he
  had　not　been　born　of　Madame　la　Duchesse；　Madame　la　Marquise；　or
  Madame　la　Comtesse。　　All　the　great　thoughts　of　a　wondrous
  transformation；　which　had　been　sown　in　him　by　the　revolutionary
  philosophers　he　had　devoured　with　such　appreciation；　welled　up　now；
  and　such　scraps　of　that　infinity　of　thought　as　could　find　utterance
  he　cast　before　the　woman　who　had　scorned　him　for　his　station。
  Presumptuous　he　had　accounted　himself　…　but　only　until　she　had　found
  him　so。　　By　that　the　presumption；　it　seemed；　had　been　lifted　from
  him；　and　he　held　that　what　he　had　said　to　her　of　the　love　he　bore
  her　was　no　more　than　by　virtue　of　his　manhood　he　had　the　right　to
  say。
  She　drew　back　before　him；　and　shrank　in　some　measure　of　fear；　for
  he　looked　very　fierce。　　Moreover；　he　had　said　things　which　professed
  him　a　revolutionist；　and　the　revolutionists；　whilst　being　a　class
  which　she　had　been　taught　to　despise　and　scorn；　dealt；　she　knew；　in
  a　violence　which　it　might　be　ill　to　excite。
  〃Monsieur；〃　she　faltered；　and　with　her　hand　she　clutched　at　her
  riding…habit　of　green　velvet；　as　if　preparing　to　depart；　〃you　are
  not　yourself。　　I　am　beyond　measure　desolated　that　you　should　have
  so　spoken　to　me。　　We　have　been　good　friends；　M。　La　Boulaye。　　Let
  us　forget　this　scene。　　Shall　we？〃　　Her　tones　grew　seductively
  conciliatory。
  La　Boulaye　half　turned　from　her；　and　his　smouldering　eye　fell　upon
  〃The　Discourses〃　lying　on　the　grass。　　He　stooped　and　picked　up　the
  volume。　　The　act　might　have　seemed　symbolical。　　For　a　moment　he　had
  cast　aside　his　creed　to　woo　a　woman；　and　now　that　she　had　denied
  him　he　returned　to　Rousseau；　and　gathered　up　the　tome　almost　in
  penitence　at　his　momentary　defection。
  〃I　am　quite　myself；　Mademoiselle；〃　he　answered　quietly。　　His　cheeks
  were　flushed；　but　beyond　that；　his　excitement　seemed　to　have　withered。
  〃It　is　you　who　yesternight；　for　one　brief　moment　and　again　to…day　…
  were　not　yourself；　and　to　that　you　owe　it　that　I　have　spoken　to　you
  as　I　have　done。〃
  Between　these　two　it　would　seem　as　the　humour　of　the　one　waned；　that
  of　the　other　waxed。　　Her　glance　kindled　anew　at　his　last　words。
  〃I？〃　she　echoed。　　〃I　was　not　myself？　　What　are　you　saying；　Monsieur
  the　Secretary？〃
  〃　Last　night；　and　again　just　now；　you　were　so　kind；　you　…　you　smiled
  so　sweetly　…　〃
  〃Mon　Dieu！〃　she　exclaimed；　angrily　interrupting　him。　〃See　what　you
  are　for　all　your　high…sounding　vaunts　of　yourself　and　your　attributes！
  A　woman　may　not　smile　upon　you；　may　not　say　one　kind　word　to　you；　but
  you　must　imagine　you　have　made　a　conquest。　　Ma　foi；　you　and　yours　do
  not　deserve　to　be　treated　as　anything　but　vassals。　　When　we　show　you
  a　kindness；　see　how　you　abuse　it。　　We　extend　to　you　our　little　finger
  and　you　instantly　lay　claim　to　the　whole　arm。　Because　last　night　I
  permitted　myself　to　exchange　a　jest　with　you；　because　I　chance　to　be
  kind　to　you　again　to…day；　you　repay　me　with　insults！〃
  〃Stop！〃　he　cried；　rousing　himself　once　more。　　〃That　is　too　much　to
  say；　Mademoiselle。　　To　tell　a　woman　that　you　love　her　is　never　to
  insult　her。　　To　be　loved　is　never　to　be　slighted。　　Upon　the　meanest
  of　His　creatures　it　is　enjoined　to　love　the　same　God　whom　the　King
  loves；　and　there　is　no　insult　to　God　in　professing　love　for　Him。
  Would　you　make　a　woman　more　than　that？〃
  〃Monsieur；　you　put　questions　I　have　no　mind　to　answer；　you　suggest
  a　discussion　I　have　no　inclination　to　pursue。　　For　you　and　me　let
  it　suffice　that　I　account　myself　affronted　by　your　words；　your　tone；
  and　your　manner。　　You　drive　me　to　say　these　things；　by　your
  insistence　you　compel　me　to　be　harsh。　　We　will　end　this　matter　here
  and　now；　Monsieur；　and　I　will　ask　you　to　understand　that　I　never
  wish　it　reopened；　else　shall　I　be　forced　to　seek　protection　at　the
  hands　of　my　father　or　my　brother。〃
  〃You　may　seek　it　now；　Suzanne；〃　quoth　a　voice　from　the　thicket　at
  her　back；　a　voice　which　came　to　startle　both　of　them　though　in
  different　ways。　　Before　they　had　recovered　from　their　surprise　the
  Marquis　de　Bellecour　stood　before　them。　He　was　a　tall　man　of　some
  fifty　years　of　age；　but　so　powerful　of　frame　and　so　scrupulous　in
  dress　that　he　might　have　conveyed　an　impression　of　more　youth。　　His
  face；　though　handsome　in　a　high…bred　way；　was　puffed　and　of　an
  unhealthy　yellow。　　But　the　eyes　were　as　keen　as　the　mouth　was
  voluptuous；　and　in　his　carefully　dressed　black　hair　there　were　few
  strands　of　grey。
  He　came　slowly　forward；　and　his　lowering　glance　wandered　from　his
  daughter　to　his　secretary　in　inquiry。　　At　last　…
  〃Well？〃　he　demanded。　　〃What　is　the　matter？〃
  〃It　is　nothing；　Monsieur；〃　his　daughter　answered　him。　〃A　trifling
  affair　'twixt　M。　la　Boulaye　and　me；　with　which　I　will　not　trouble
  you。〃
  〃It　is　not　nothing；　my　lord；〃　cried　La　Boulaye；　his　voice　vibrating
  oddly。　　〃It　is　that　I　love　your　daughter　and　that　I　have　told　her
  of　it。〃　　He　was　in　a　very　daring　mood　that　morning。
  The　Marquis　glanced　at　him　in　dull　amazement。　　Then　a　flush　crept
  into　his　sallow　cheeks　and　mounted　to　his　brow。　　An　inarticulate
  grunt　came　from　his　thick　lips。
  〃Canaille！〃　he　exclaimed；　through　set　teeth。　　〃Can　you　have　presumed
  so　far？〃
  He　carried　a　riding…switch；　and　he　seemed　to　grasp　it　now　in　a　manner
  peculiarly　menacing。　　But　La　Boulaye　was　nothing　daunted。　　Lost　he
  already　accounted　himself；　and　on　the　strength　of　the　logic　that　if
  a　man　must　hang；　a　sheep　as　well　as　a　lamb　may　be　the　cause　of　it；
  he　took　what　chances　the　time　afforded　him　to　pile　up　his　debt。
  〃There　is　neither　insolence　nor　presumption　in　what　I　have　done；〃
  he　answered；　giving　back　the　Marquis　look　for　look　and　scowl　for
  scowl。　　〃You　deem　it　so　because　I　am　the　secretary　to　the　Marquis
  de　Bellecour　and　she　is　the　daughter　of　that　same　Marquis。　　But
  these　are　no　more　than　the　fortuitous　circumstances　in　which　we
  chance　to　find　ourselves。　　That　she　is　a　woman　must　take　rank　before
  the　fact　that　she　is　your　daughter；　and　that　I　am　a　man　must　take
  rank　before　the　fact　that　I　am　your　secretary。　　Not；　then；　as　your
  secretary　speaking　to　your　daughter　have　I　told　this　lady　that　I
  love　her；　but　as　a　man　speaking　to　a　woman。　　To　utter　that　should
  be　…　nay；　is　…　the　right　of　every　man；　to　hear　it　should　be　honouring
  to　every　woman　worthy　of　the　name。　　In　a　primitive　condition　…　〃
  〃A　thousand　devils！〃　blazed　the　Marquis；　unable　longer　to　contain
  himself。　　〃Am　I　to　have　my　ears　offended　by　this　braying？　　Miserable
  scum；　you　shall　be　taught　what　is　due　to　your　betters。〃
  His　whip　cracked　suddenly；　and　the　lash　leapt　serpentlike　into　the
  air；　to　descend　and　coil　itself　about　La　Boulaye's　head　and　face。
  A　cry　broke　from　the　young　man；　as　much　of　pain　as　of　surprise；　and
  as　the　lash　was　drawn　back；　he　clapped　his　hands　to　his　seared　face。
  But　again　he　felt　it；　cutting　him　now　across　the　hand　with　which　he
  had　masked　himself。　　With　a　maddened　roar　he　sprang　upon　his
  aggressor。　　In　height　he　was　the　equal　of　the　Marquis；　but　in　weight
  he　seemed　to　be　scarce　more　than　the　half　of　his　opponent's。　　Yet
  a　nervous　strength　dwelt　unsuspected　in　those　lean　arms　and　steely
  wrists。
  Mademoiselle　stood　by　looking　on；　with　parted　lips　and　eyes　that
  were　intent　and　anxious。　　She　saw　that　figure；　spare　and　lithe　as
  a　greyhound；　leap　suddenly　upon　her　father；　and　the　next　instant
  the　whip　was　in　the　secretary's　hands；　and　he　sprang　back　from　the
  nobleman；　who　stood　white　and　quivering　with　rage；　and　perhaps；　too；
  with　some　dismay。
  〃That　I　do　not　break　it　across　your　back；　M。　le　Marquis；　said　the
  young　man；　as　he　snapped　the　whip　on　his　knee；　〃you　may　thank　your
  years。〃　　With　that　he　flung　the　two　pieces　wide　into　the　sunlit
  waters　of　the　brook。　　〃But　I　will　have　satisfaction；　Monsieur。　　I
  will　take　payment　for　this。〃　　And　he　pointed　to　the　weal　that
  disfigured　his　face。