Her lips opened again; but she only inclined her head.
“It is so, then?” he answered to the gesture; “and it only remains for me to express my most earnest regret at having failed hitherto to realize the true conditions of a suit, which I now need not hesitate to affirm I once dared to hope a prosperous termination to; and to gratefully thank you for permitting me to justify my dismissal in your eyes, without putting you to the awkwardness of an explanation. Madam, I am your humble, obedient servant.”
He bowed low. Positively, the man seemed on the point of withdrawing—and with a doubtful air of relief, too. Miss Royston found her voice suddenly.
“Stay, Mr. Tuke!—Oh, sir! your hurried assumption seems to put me in the worst light of churlishness.”
“Surely, surely,” said he, reluctantly, “I never suggested such a thing?”
“Indirectly, indeed, you do. You hastily cancel an—an invitation, while I am yet making up my mind as to the form of answer.”
“Ah, madam! I see. You would claim the privilege of rejection.”
“That is unkind.”
“No, no. You are entitled to it. I was wrong to overlook the fact that the point of view of the world must be considered.”
She flushed up angrily.