d if you do tell Willie Beresford, you shall never visit my
manse, nor see me preside at my mothers' meetings, nor hear me address
the infant class in the Sunday-school,--the fact is I liked him from
the beginning at Lady Baird's dinner. I liked the bow he made when he
offered me his arm (I wish it had been his hand); I liked the top of
his head when it was bowed; I liked his arm when I took it; I liked
the height of his shoulder when I stood beside it; I liked the way he
put me in my chair (that showed chivalry), and unfolded his napkin
(that was neat and businesslike), and pushed aside all his wineglasses
but one (that was temperate); I liked the side view of his nose, the
shape of his collar, the cleanness of his shave, the manliness of his
tone,--oh, I liked him altogether, you must know how it is,
Penelope,--the goodness and strength and simplicity that radiated from
him. And when he said, within the first half-hour, that international
alliances presented even more difficulties to the imagination than
others, I felt, to my confusion, a distinct sense of disappointment.
Even while I was quarreling with him, I said to myself, 'You poor
darling, you cannot have him even if you should want him, so don't
look at him much!'--But I did look at him; and what is worse, he
looked at me; and what is worse yet, he curled himself so tightly
round my heart that if he takes himself away, I shall be cold the rest
of my life!"

"Then you are really sure of your love this time, and you have never
advised him to wed somebody more worthy than yourself?" I asked.

"Not I!" she replied. "I wouldn't put such an idea into his head for
worlds! He might adopt it!"

XXV

"Pale and wan was she when Glenlogie gaed ben,
But red rosy grew she whene'er he sat doun."

_Glenlogie_.

Just here the front door banged, and a manly step sounded on the
stair. Francesca sat up straight in a big chair, and dried her eyes
hastily with her poor little wet ball of a handkerchief; for she knows
that Willie is a privileged visitor in my studio. The door opened (it
was ajar), and Ronald Macdonald strode into the room. I hope I may
never have the same sense of nothingness again! To be young, pleasing,
gifted, and to be regarded no more than a fly upon the wall, is death
to one's self-respect.

He dropped on one knee beside Francesca and took her two hands in his
without removing his gaze from her sp