"I cannot. What difference does it make to her, anyway? I will be at the wharf"—he looked at his watch, it was already six o'clock—"in three-quarters of an hour. Good-by."
The two men shook hands and separated.
"The boat is ready," said Lacy to himself. "I saw to that this afternoon. There is nothing for me to do there. I wonder—by Jove, I'll do it!"
A few minutes after he was ushered again into the presence of Miss Fanny Glen. She had at first pleaded indisposition, but he had insisted upon seeing her.
"I have something of so much importance to tell you, Miss Glen," he began, as she entered the room, "that I was forced to override your desires."
"Is it about the subject that we—I—talked about this afternoon? If so—"
"It is not. I shall say no more on that score. I had my answer then."
"I am very sorry," continued the girl. "I admire you, respect you, but—but—I do not—"
"I understand. Never mind that. You said that Sempland had never done anything to distinguish himself. Well, he's going to do it to-night."
"What is he going to do?" asked the girl, all the listlessness instantly going out of her manner.