"I am sorry," said Lord Beltravers, bending his head in courtly sympathy. "In that case I should have asked your father to hear my suit."
"Father is deaf," she replied. "He couldn't have heard it."
"Tut, tut," said Lord Beltravers impatiently; "I beg your pardon," he added at once, "I should have controlled myself. That being so," he went on, "I have the honour to make to you, Miss French, an offer of marriage. May I hope?"
Gwendolen put her hand suddenly to her heart. The shock was too much for her fresh young innocence. She was not really engaged to Giles Earwaker, though he too was hoping; and the only three times that Thomas Ritson had kissed her she had threatened to box his ears.
"Lord Beltravers," she began——
"Call me Beltravers," he begged.
"Beltravers, I love you. I give you a simple maiden's heart."
"My darling!" he cried, clasping her thumb impulsively. "Then we are affianced."
He slipped a ring off his finger and fitted it affectionately on two of hers.
"Wear this," he said gravely. "It was my mother's. She was a de Dindigul. See, this is their crest—a roeless herring over the motto 'Dans l'huile'." Observing that she looked puzzled he translated the noble French words to her. "And now let us go in. Another dance is beginning. May I beg for the honour?"