“Are you sure he is going to propose?”
“Morally sure. He just asked me where he was likely to find you, and I told him I thought you would be here about this time.”
“How did you know that?” asked Victoria, with interest.
“Because I meant to look for you myself and send you here,” was the resolute answer. “In these matters I leave nothing to chance.”
“You have taken pains!” exclaimed her daughter, with genuine admiration. “But you don’t know that he is going to propose. He may only be going to say good-bye.”
“Nonsense! I know perfectly well. I can always tell when a man is going to propose. My judgment has never been deceived.”
Victoria affected to conceal a yawn.
“Well, I am much obliged to you for warning me. I shall be prepared.”
“And you will accept him, won’t you, like a good girl?” pleaded the marchioness, with maternal tenderness.
“I haven’t the slightest idea what I shall do,” was the callous reply. “I hope he won’t be sentimental over it.”