id.

"Well, my declaration shall be definite enough, even for you. Do you
love me?"

"No, I dont think I do. In fact, I am quite sure I do not--in the way
you mean. I wish you would not talk like this, Sholto. We have all got
on so pleasantly together: you, and I, and Nelly, and Marmaduke, and my
father. And now you begin making love, and stuff of that kind. Pray let
us agree to forget all about it, and remain friends as before."

"You need not be anxious about our future relations: I shall not
embarrass you with my society again. I hoped to find you a woman capable
of appreciating a man's passion, even if you should be unable to respond
to it. But I perceive that you are only a girl, not yet aware of the
deeper life that underlies the ice of conventionality."

"That is a very good metaphor for your own case," said Marian,
interrupting him. "Your ordinary manner is all ice, hard and chilling.
One may suspect that there are depths beneath, but that is only an
additional inducement to keep on the surface."

"Then even your amiability is a delusion! Or is it that you are amiable
to the rest of the world, and reserve taunts of coldness and treachery
for me?"

"No, no," she said, angelic again. "You have taken me up wrongly. I did
not mean to taunt you."

"You conceal your meaning as skilfully as--according to you--I have
concealed mine. Good-morning."

"Are you going already?"

"Do you care one bit for me, Marian?"

"I do indeed. Believe me, you are one of my special friends."

"I do not want to be _one_ of your friends. Will you be my wife?"

"Sholto!"

"Will you be my wife?"

"No. I----"

"Pardon me. That is quite sufficient. Good-morning."

The moment he interrupted her, a change in her face shewed she had a
temper. She did not move a muscle until she heard the house door close
behind him. Then she ran upstairs to the drawing-room, where Miss
McQuinch was still practising.

"Oh, Nelly," she cried, throwing herself into an easy chair, and
covering her face with her hands. "Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!" She opened her
fingers and looked whimsically at her cousin, who, despising this stage
business, said, impatiently:

"Well?"

"Do you know what Sholto came for?"

"To propose to you."

"Stop, Nelly. You do not know what horrible things one may say in jest.
He _has_ proposed."

"When will the wedding be?"

"Dont joke about it, please. I scarcely know how I have behaved, or what
the meaning of the whol