er led Betty through another, ostensibly
to show her a celebrated portrait in the family gallery, but without
inviting the others to accompany them. And Betty seemed quite willingly
to have accepted his invitation.

Once inside the gallery, she appeared more deeply interested in the
pictures than the young man expected or desired. For the greater number
of them were ugly old men and stout elderly _Frauen_ with no very strong
attraction even for their descendant. And there at the end of the dark
room near a window hung with a faded velvet curtain, stood a small oak
seat, while beyond was a particularly fine view of the park.

But Betty could only be lured to this seat by long effort and the moment
after seating herself suggested that they had best return to the others
now that the pictures had been seen, since it must be almost time for
leaving for home. Nevertheless, as her host did not stir or even seem to
have heard her request, Betty subsided for a few moments. She was
honestly weary, being unaccustomed to such a vast house with its miles
of steps and endless passage-ways.

"Miss Ashton," said Lieutenant von Reuter suddenly and quite formally,
"will you do me the honor to become my wife? In my country you know it
is the custom to speak first to the parent, but I understand that it is
not so in your United States."

Then as Betty gazed at him without answering, although her face had
flushed deeply, he went on with more feeling: "You know I have cared for
you always since our first meeting. I have been unable--I have not cared
to conceal it."

Frightened and uncertain, Betty bit her lips to keep them from
trembling. This was her first proposal, and she could not help thinking
of that for a moment; besides it was so romantic! No one of her friends
would ever be apt to experience anything like it. Here she and
Lieutenant von Reuter were in his splendid, shabby old castle sitting
together in the shadow of his ancestors. Why, what he had just said to
her meant that she might some day be a countess if she wished! But
Betty brought herself together with a slight frown and a feeling of
distaste and shame of herself. What absurd ideas were in her mind in the
presence of so tremendously serious a subject! Here she was thinking and
behaving like a foolish dreaming child. Did she care for Carl von Reuter
for himself? Would she have cared had he been of more humble origin, had
he been less handsome? Betty glanced at the young