“I don't know.”'
“You ought to know, Lucy.”
“Mr. Talboys has authorized you, dear?”
“He has.”'
“Then this is a formal proposal from Mr. Talboy's?”
“Of course it is,” said the old gentleman, fearlessly, for Lucy's manner of putting these questions was colorless; nobody would have guessed what she was at.
She now drew her arm round her uncle's neck, and kissed him, which made him exult prematurely.
“Then, dear uncle,” said she lovingly, “you must tell Mr. Talboys that I thank him for the honor he does me, and that I decline.”
“Accept, you mean?”
“No I don't—ha! ha!”