'Yes, I know what you mean—and I feel I have been very much to blame.'
'No, you haven't,' retorted Ritchie almost roughly. 'You haven't been to blame; it's me who used to feel that I'd sooner be made a fool of by you than have any other girl throw herself at my head. I've drawn back as frightened as a wombat when you began to be serious. I wanted things to be the same, for fear I mightn't even come to see you from time to time. But everything must have an end. I'd like you to marry me on any terms—unless—you're not fond of anyone else?'
She did not reply at once, and the young man recalled the hints that his sister had thrown out at Godolphin House.
'Why don't you tell me?' he cried in a husky voice.
'No! But then I can imagine that I could love; and I think, before a woman risks marrying, she should. We have been friends so long, I will be quite frank with you. I have sometimes thought I could marry you since we last parted——'
'Oh, Stella, Stella! God in heaven bless you for saying that,' cried Ted breathlessly.
'But then, Ted, I have oftener thought I could not. I think that we should be a little more alike. It is such a frightful long time——'
'Not always. Some people die off before they're anytime married.'
'But it would be unwise to count on that form of happiness,' answered Stella; and then she gave way to an uncontrollable burst of laughter.
'And as for not being alike,' said Ted, who always enjoyed the girl's merriment even when not a muscle of his own face moved, 'why, there's not many fellows that would care to have their wives like themselves. And I would, perhaps, get a little bit like you after we married, Stella. We would have so much time together at Strathhaye—or we could travel, or whatever you liked.'