listen in icy aloofness that same eagerness was as the kindling of a fire in a place of utter desolation.
For the moment she forgot to be cold. "Oh, if it were only possible!" she said. "If it only could be!"
"Why can't it be?" said Jake.
She came back with something of a shock to the consciousness of his personality. She drew back from the warmth that he had made her feel.
"Because," she said frigidly, "doctors-great surgeons-don't perform big operations for nothing."
"I don't think Capper would charge an out-of-the-way amount if he did it for me," said Jake.
"Perhaps not." Maud spoke in the dead tone of finality.
He leaned slightly towards her. "Say, Miss Brian, aren't you rather easily disheartened? Wouldn't your people scrape together something for such a purpose?"
"No," she said.
"Are you quite sure?" he urged. "Won't you even ask 'em?"
She turned from him. "It's no good asking," she said, her voice low and reluctant. "The only relation we possess who might help won't even answer when I write to him."
"Why don't you go and see him?" said Jake. "Put the thing before him! He couldn't refuse."
She shook her head. "It wouldn't be any good," she said, with dreary conviction. "Besides, I couldn't get to Liverpool and back in a day, and I couldn't leave Bunny for longer. And-in any case-I know-I know it wouldn't be any good," she ended, with half-angry vehemence.
"I wish the little chap were my brother," said Jake.
Maud was silent. Somehow her vehemence had upset her; she had an outrageous desire to cry.
Jake was silent too for a few seconds; then abruptly he squared his shoulders and spoke with aggressive decision. "Miss Brian, a good friend is nearer than a dozen beastly relations. With your permission-I'll see this thing through."
"Oh no, no!" she said quickly. "No, no!"
"For the boy's sake!" he said.
"No!" she said again.
There fell a sudden silence. Then, in an odd voice Jake said, "Bunny told me-only to-day-with pride-that there was nothing in the world that you wouldn't do for him."
She made a sharp movement of protest. "I can't take-what I could never repay," she said, speaking almost below her breath. "Neither shall Bunny."
"There are more ways than one of paying a debt," said Jake.
He looked almost formidable standing there in the twilight with his legs well apart and unabashed resolution in every line of his sturdy figure.
She faced him with a sinking sense of her own inferior strength. His self-assertion seemed to weigh her down. She felt puny and insignificant before it. As usual she sought refuge in stately aloofness. She had no other weapon, and at least it covered the beating of her heart.
"I am afraid I don't understand you," she said.
"Shall I explain?" said Jake; and then, as she was silent: "Can't you see I'm making a bid for your friendship?"
She froze at the effrontery of the words.
"Oh yes," said Jake. "I quite understand. I'm only tolerated for Bunny's sake. Isn't that so? You're too proud to associate with a clod like me. But for all that-though you'll never look at me-I'm not afraid to let you know that I've taken a fancy to you. You've never contemplated such a fool idea as marriage with me, I know: but you go home and contemplate it right now! Ask yourself if you wouldn't find a husband like me less nauseating than a step-father like Giles Sheppard! Ask yourself if the little chap wouldn't stand a better chance all round if you brought him along to me! I reckon we'd make his life easier between us even if Capper couldn't make him walk. He's too heavy a burden for you to carry alone, my girl. You weren't created for such a burden as that. Let me lend a hand! I give you my solemn oath I'll be good to you both!"
A tremor of passion ran through his last words, and his voice took a deeper note. Maud, upright and quivering, felt the force of the man like the blast of a tearing gale carrying all before it. She would have left him at the commencement of his speech, but he blocked the way. She stood imprisoned in a corner of the shelter, steadying herself against the woodwork, while the full strength of his individuality surged around her. She felt physically exhausted, as though she had been trying to stand against a tremendous wind.
Several seconds throbbed away ere she could trust herself to speak without faltering. Then: "Please let me pass!" she said.
He stood back instantly and she was conscious of a lessening of that mysterious influence which had so overwhelmed her.
"Are you angry-or what?" he said.
She gathered her strength, and stepped forth, though she was trembling from head to foot.
"Yes, I am angry," she said, forcing her voice to a certain measure of calmness notwithstanding. "I have never been so insulted in my life!"
"Insulted!" He echoed the word in unfeigned astonishment; then, as she would have left him, put a detaining hand upon her arm. "Say, Miss Brian! Since when has a proposal of marriage constituted an insult in your estimation?"
He spoke with something of a drawl, but it compelled attention. She stopped, resisting the desire to shake herself free from his touch.
"A proposal of marriage from you could be nothing else," she said very bitterly. "You take advantage of my position, but you know full well that we are not equals."
"Oh yes, I know that," he said. "But-is any man your equal?"
"I meant socially of course," she said, beginning to recover her composure and her dignity.
"I see." Jake's voice was very level. "And that is why you are upset-angry?"
"It is a very sufficient reason," she said.
"Yes, but is it-as things now are? There is another point of view to that problem. If you had been leading a happy, sheltered life in your own sphere-that might have been a reason for me to hold off. You might with justice have scorned my offer. But-as things are-as things are-" he spoke with strong insistence. "Is it taking advantage of your position to want to deliver you from it? It's a beastly position-it's a humiliating position. And I gather you've no prospect of deliverance. Well, I offer you a way of escape. It mayn't be the way you would choose, but-there are worse, many worse. I'm not a bad sort, and I've got a soft spot in my heart for that little brother of yours. Say, Miss Brian, do you despise me so badly that you can't even give the idea your impartial consideration?"
He spoke whimsically, but there was a rough dignity about him nevertheless which had an undeniable effect upon her. She could no longer spurn him with contempt, though neither could she yield a single inch to his persuasion.
"It would be quite useless for me to consider it," she said. "I am sorry if I was rude to you just now, but your suggestion rather took my breath away. Please understand that it is quite, quite impossible!"
"All right," he said. "Still you won't dismiss it quite entirely from your mind? That is to say, you'll hold it in reserve just in case a way of escape becomes essential to you. I shan't break my heart about it, but neither shall I change my mind. The offer remains open day and night
