Gladys checked herself.
'A villain, you would say. Not at all. I merely pay Miss Gwynne the civilities due to her. I am not obliged to fall in love with every young lady in whose father's house I am visiting. But I admired you the first moment I saw you; and now, at this moment, I vow that I love you as I never loved in my life before.'
They stood face to face, looking at each other. Gladys' eyes drooped before the gaze of the colonel.
'This to me!' she exclaimed, 'and yet you say you do not insult me! Let me go, sir, I insist!'
She tried to hasten on, but the strong hand was again on her arm.
'I do not insult you, Gladys, I honour and respect you. If you will only say you love me, I will—yes, I will—I think, at least—I will marry you privately, and take you abroad at once. I vow this is more than I ever said to any woman in my life before.'
'And you will repent having said it to me before the night is out, Colonel Vaughan, and you do not mean it. Think of who I am; think of Miss Gwynne; think of yourself. Oh! this is cruel, cruel jesting to all!'
'I was never more serious in my life.'
As Colonel Vaughan said this, he saw nothing, thought of nothing, but the peculiar beauty of the creature who stood, flushed and agitated, at his side. He forgot himself and his purposes, in his temporary blind admiration.
'Now, Gladys, I await your answer,' he said, not doubting what that answer would be.