athetic expression than ever. His hands are a nice
shape--but so are Mr. Carruthers's; they both look very much like
gentlemen.

Before we had finished, a note was brought in to me. It was from Lady
Katherine Montgomerie. She was too sorry, she said, to hear of my lonely
position, and she was writing to ask if I would not come over and spend
a fortnight with them at Tryland Court.

It was not well worded, and I had never cared much for Lady Katherine,
but it was fairly kind, and fitted in perfectly with my plans.

She had probably heard of Mr. Carruthers's arrival, and was scandalized
at my being alone in the house with him.

Both men had their eyes fixed on my face when I looked up, as I finished
reading the note.

"Lady Katherine Montgomerie writes to ask me to Tryland," I said. "So if
you will excuse me I will answer it, and say I will come this
afternoon," and I got up.

Mr. Carruthers rose, too, and followed me into the library. He
deliberately shut the door and came over to the writing-table where I
sat down.

"Well, if I let you go, will you tell her then that you are engaged to
me, and I am going to marry you as soon as possible?"

"No, indeed I won't," I said, decidedly. "I am not going to marry you,
or any one, Mr. Carruthers. What do you think of me? Fancy my consenting
to come back here forever, and live with you, when I don't know you a
bit! And having to put up with your--perhaps--kissing me,
and--and--things of that sort. It is perfectly dreadful to think of!"

He laughed as if in spite of himself. "But supposing I promised not to
kiss you?"

"Even so," I said, and I couldn't help biting the end of my pen. "It
could happen that I might get a feeling I wanted to kiss some one
else--and there it is! Once you're married, everything nice is wrong!"

"Evangeline! I won't let you go--out of my life--you strange little
witch! You have upset me, disturbed me--I can settle to nothing. I seem
to want you so very much."

"Pouf!" I said, and I pouted at him.

"You have everything in your life to fill it--position, riches, friends.
You don't want a green-eyed adventuress."

I bent down and wrote steadily to Lady Katherine. I would be there about
six o'clock, I said, and thanked her in my best style.

"If I let you go, it is only for the time," Mr. Carruthers said as I
signed my name. "I _intend_ you to marry me--do you hear?"

"Again I say, 'Qui vivre verra!'" I laughed and rose with the note in my