This involved sentence meant, I knew, the worst.
It meant that she thought the Honourable Jim was going to ask her to marry him! And she must have some good reason for thinking so! Or he's an incorrigible flirt, one of the two!
"If he does ask you to marry him," I pursued, feeling as if I were a mixture of a schoolmistress and Million's own mother combined, "do you think you are going to say yes you will?"
"Do I think?" echoed Million ardently. "I don't 'think' anything about it. I just know I will!"
Oh, dear! Ever since I have been Miss Million's maid I have seemed to get from one difficulty into another. It is worse than ever now that I know for certain that the poor little thing imagines she is going to marry Mr. Burke. She won't ever be happy, even if he does marry her for her money.
But, stop! There is another thing. Her money?
Supposing her money does go? Well, then, the handsome Irishman will jilt her quite mercilessly. I know enough about him to know that! And I have a horrible presentiment that this is exactly what is going to happen. That shrewd-eyed young American downstairs, Mr. Hiram P. Jessop, will bring an action to recover for himself all Miss Million's dollars. He will walk off with the fortune. And my mistress, poor little creature, will be left without either money or love!
As for me, I shall lose my place. I, too, shan't know what to do—unless——
Oh, yes. There is always one thing I can do. I shall marry. There is the proposal of Mr. Reginald Brace, who begged me to say yes to him when he gets back from Paris.
Thinking over it, I am pretty sure that that is what I shall say.