"I do," I repeated. "Could you imagine a girl wanting to marry Dick
Burden?"

"No, _I_ couldn't," said Sir Lionel. And then he laughed--such a nice,
happy laugh, like a boy's, quite different from the way I have heard him
laugh lately--though at first, in London, he seemed young and
light-hearted. "But I'm no judge of the men--or boys--a girl might want
to marry. Dick's good-looking, or near it."

"Yes," I admitted. "So is your little chauffeur. But I don't want to
marry it."

"Are you flirting with Dick, then?" Sir Lionel asked, not sharply, but
almost wistfully.

I couldn't stand that. I had to tell the truth, no matter for to-morrow!

"I'm not flirting with him, either," I said.

"What then?"

"Nothing."

"But he seems to think there is something--something to hope."

"Did he tell you so?"

"No. He sent me word."

"Oh! Words get mixed, when they're sent. He _knows_ I'm not flirting
with him."

"Does he know--forgive me--does he know that you don't love him--a
little?"

"He knows I don't love him at all."

"Then I--can't understand," said Sir Lionel.

"Would you like me to love him?" I couldn't help asking.

"No," he began, and stopped. "I should like you to be happy, in your own
way," he went on more slowly. "I've been at a loss, because a little
while ago you said you didn't like Burden, and then you seemed to change
your mind----"

"It was only seeming," I continued on my reckless course. "My mind
toward him stands where it did."

"If that is so, what have you done to him, to give him hope?"

"Nothing I could help," I said.

"There's a strange misunderstanding somewhere, apparently," Sir Lionel
reflected aloud.

"Oh, don't let there be one between us!" I begged, looking up at him
suddenly.

He put his hand out as suddenly, and grabbed--literally grabbed--mine. I
was so happy! Isn't it nice that men are so much stronger than women,
and that we're meant to like them to be? It can make life so
interesting.

As his fingers pressed mine, I let mine press his too, and felt we were
friends. "By Jove, no, we won't," he said. And though it wasn't much to
say, nothing could have pleased me better. The words and the tone seemed
to match the close clasp of our hands.

"Would you be willing to trust me?" I asked.

"Of course. But in what way do you mean?"

"About Dick Burden. He _doesn't_ think I'm flirting, and he doesn't
think I care for him. Yet I want you to trust me, and not say anyt