The flame died out of his eyes, and he drew himself up stiffly, speakingwith a curtness that surprised her.
"I crave your pardon. I should be whipped at the cart-tail for askingsuch an impertinent question. Forget it, I beg."
Diana looked up at the stern face, half amazed, half affronted.
"I do not think I quite understand you, sir."
"There is nought to understand, mademoiselle," he answered with drylips. "'Twere merely that I was coxcomb enough to hope that you liked mea little for mine own sake."
She glanced again at his averted head with a wistful little smile.
"Oh!" she murmured. "_Oh!_"--and--"It is very dreadful to be ahighwayman!" she sighed.
"Yes, mademoiselle."
"But surely you could cease to be one?" coaxingly.
He did not trust himself to answer.
"I know you could. Please do!"
"That is not all," he forced himself to say. "There is worse."
"_Is_ there?" she asked wide-eyed. "What else have you done, Mr. Carr?"
"I--once--" heavens, how hard it was to say! "I once ... cheated ... atcards." It was out. Now she would turn from him in disgust. He shut hiseyes in anticipation of her scorn, his head turned away.
"Only _once_?" came the soft voice, filled with awed admiration.
His eyes flew open.
"Mademoiselle--!"
She drooped her head mournfully.
"I'm afraid I always cheat," she confessed. "I had no idea 'twas sowicked, although Auntie gets very cross and vows she will not play withme."
He could not help laughing.
"'Tis not wicked in you, child. You do not play for money."
"Oh, did you?"
"Yes, child."
"Then that _was_ horrid of you," she agreed.
He stood silent, fighting the longing to tell her the truth.
"But--but--do not look so solemn, sir," the pleading voice went on. "Iam sure you must have had a very strong excuse?"
"None."
"And now you are letting it spoil your life?" she asked reproachfully.
"It does not wait for my permission," he answered bitterly.
"Ah, but what a pity! Must one moment's indiscretion interfere