And then, 'Why, you are the girl who yesterday would have me kill him!' he cried with indignation; 'who came out of town to meet me, brought me in, and would have matched me with him as coolly as ever sportsman set cock in pit! Ay, you! And now you blame me! My girl, blame yourself! Call yourself Cain, if you please!' 'I do,' she said unblenching.

'But I have my excuse.

God forgive me none the less!' Her eyes filled as she said it.

'I had and have my excuse.
But you--a gentleman! What part had you in this?
Who were you to kill your fellow-creature--at the word of a distraught girl ?' Sir George saw his opening and jumped for it viciously.

'I fear you honour me too much,' he said, in the tone of elaborate politeness, which was most likely to embarrass a woman in her position.