“You mean that?”
“Certainly.”
“I won’t believe it.”
“You always were incredulous, Hughie.”
“I don’t suppose I can convince you that I am very fond of you, and that I shall feel badly if you leave like this?”
This was more like it:—Miss Rathburn lowered her beautiful lashes.
“You haven’t tried, have you?” she asked softly.
She looked very desirable at the moment—pink and white and soft and fluffy—all that the traditions of his family demanded in a woman. He knew perfectly what was expected of him, and there was every reason why he should ask her to marry him, and none at all why he should not, yet somehow when he opened his lips to ask, “Will you let me?” the words choked him. He said, instead, with the utmost cordiality:
“Don’t you dare do anything so unfriendly as to leave without saying good-bye to me. Will you promise to wait until I return?”
If she had obeyed her impulse she would have shrieked at him: