"Sir Griffin," said Lucinda, bowing her head.
"Perhaps you will condescend to remember what I had the honour of saying to you as we rode into Kilmarnock last Wednesday."
"I had just been dragged out of a river, Sir Griffin, and I don't think any girl ought to be asked to remember what was said to her in that condition."
"If I say it again now, will you remember?"
"I cannot promise, Sir Griffin."
"Will you give me an answer?"
"That must depend."
"Come;—I will have an answer. When a man tells a lady that he admires her, and asks her to be his wife, he has a right to an answer. Don't you think that in such circumstances a man has a right to expect an answer?"
Lucinda hesitated for a moment, and he was beginning again to remonstrate impatiently, when she altered her tone, and replied to him seriously, "In such circumstances a gentleman has a right to expect an answer."
"Then give me one. I admire you above all the world, and I ask you to be my wife. I'm quite in earnest."