“In short,” he retorted, bitterly, “you think you will pick up some swell here who will be a better bargain than I am.”
“Wallace! How dare you?”
“You hurt my feelings, Alice, and I speak out. I know how to behave myself quite as well as those who have the entree here; but when my entire happiness is at stake I do not stand on punctilio. Therefore, I insist on a straightforward answer to my fair, honorable proposal.”
“Wallace,” said Alice, with dignity; “I will not be forced into giving an answer against my will. I regard you as a cousin.”
“I do not wish to be regarded as a cousin. Have I ever regarded you as a cousin?”
“And do you suppose, Wallace, that I should permit you to call me by my Christian name, and be as familiar as we have always been together, if you were not my cousin? If so, you must have a very strange opinion of me.”
“I did not think that luxury could so corrupt—”
“You said that before,” said Alice, pettishly. “Do not keep repeating the same thing over and over; you know it is one of your bad habits. Will you stay to lunch? Miss Carew told me to ask you.”
“Indeed! Miss Carew is very kind. Please inform her that I am deeply honored, and that I feel quite disturbed at being unable to accept her patronage.”
Alice poised her head disdainfully. “No doubt it amuses you to make yourself ridiculous,” she said; “but I must say I do not see any occasion for it.”