“As you know, Mrs. O’Hara and myself are old friends,” he answered quietly. “And when she asked me to meet her here upon business, I had no excuse for declining, especially as I was much interested in Mr. Belmont’s fate on her account. All this past week I have been searching for you most anxiously, and have had no satisfaction excepting a passing glimpse of your face at Preston station.”
“When you were escorting Mrs. O’Hara somewhere, and flirting with her publicly,” put in Lady Gwendolyn.
“I was simply bidding her good-by when you saw me, and that is a ceremony which may very well take place in public.”
“Under ordinary circumstances.”
“The circumstances were by no means extraordinary in our case, Gwendolyn. I met her by chance; we traveled together for a couple of hours; what more natural and commonplace? I have known Mrs. O’Hara for the last ten years, her husband was the best friend I ever had in the world. Would you have had me treat her like a stranger?”
“I have no right to dictate to you,” she answered coldly.
“Indeed, you have every right, Gwendolyn, since I have asked you to be my wife.”
“You forget that I declined the honor.”
“I did not understand you so. You coquetted with my impatience as women are fond of doing, and finally left me in suspense; but you never absolutely refused me.”
“Then I will repair my omission. I beg to thank you for the honor you have done me in asking me to be your wife,” she said, with great formality; “but I have no wish to marry, and have not the confidence in or affection for you that would induce me to change my resolution.”