e
was, of course, exactly that kind of girl.

"Ah," she said, with a little tremble in her voice, "if I do marry
you--will you be kind to me?"

Winn trembled, too; he flushed very red, and suddenly he did the
funniest, most unlikely thing in the world: he got down on his knees
beside her, and taking both her hands in his, he kissed them.

"I'll be like this as much as ever you'll let me," he said gravely.

He had a great craving for sweetness, delicacy, and gentleness; he began
to tell her in little short, abrupt sentences how unworthy he was of
her, not fit to touch her really--he was afraid he'd been horribly
rough--and done lots of things she would have hated (he forgot to
mention that he'd ever done anything worth doing as well); he explained
that he didn't know any women a bit like her; there weren't any, of
course, _really_ like--but she knew what he meant. So that he expected
she'd have to teach him a lot--would she--if she didn't mind, and
overlook his being stupid?

Estelle listened thoughtfully for a few minutes, then she asked him if
he didn't think eight bridesmaids would be better than four?

He got up from his knees then.

He didn't like discussing the wedding, and he got bored very soon and
went away, so that Mrs. Fanshawe didn't need to have the special lunch
she had ordered, after all.

They were to have a very short engagement, and Estelle decided on four
bridesmaids and four pages; she was so small herself that children would
look prettier and more innocent.

There was something particularly charming about a young wedding, and
they were to have a celebration first--Estelle was most particular about
that--and a wedding breakfast afterwards of course. Winn was
extraordinarily kind to her; he let her settle everything she liked and
gave her exactly the ring she wanted--an immense emerald set with
diamonds. He wasn't in the least particular about where they spent the
honeymoon, after making a very silly suggestion, which Estelle promptly
over-ruled, that they might go to the East Coast and make a study of
fortifications.

He agreed that London would do just as well, with theaters, and he could
look up a man he knew at the War Office. Certainly they should go to the
Ritz if Estelle liked it; but it was rather noisy.

The one point he did make was to have a young officer he liked, who had
been with him in China, Lionel Drummond, as his best man, instead of
his cousin Lord Arlington. His brothe