"I love you, Lilian, and only you," returns he, reproachfully. "No, do not turn from me; let me plead my cause once more. Darling, I have indeed tried to live without you, and have failed; if you reject me again you will drive me to destruction. Lilian, be merciful; say something kind to me."
"You promised me," says Lilian, nervously, moving away from him, "never to speak on this subject again. Oh, why is it that some people will insist on falling in love with other people? There is something so stupid about it. Now, I never fall in love; why cannot you follow my good example?"
"I am not bloodless, or——"
"Neither am I," holding up her pretty hand between her and the fire, so that the rich blood shows through the closed fingers of it. "But I have common sense, the one thing you lack."
"You are the one thing I lack," possessing himself of her hand and kissing it fatuously. "Without you I lack everything. Beloved, must I learn to look upon you as my curse? Give me, I entreat you, one little word of encouragement, if only one; I starve for want of it. If you only knew how I have clung for months, and am still clinging, to the barest shadow of a hope, you would think twice before you destroyed that one faint gleam of happiness."
"This is dreadful," says Lilian, piteously, the ready tears gathering in her eyes. "Would you marry a woman who does not love you?"
"I would,"—eagerly,—"when that woman assures me she does not love another, and I have your word for that."
Lilian winces. Then, trying to recover her spirits:
"'What one suffers for one's country—men!'" she misquotes, with an affectation of lightness. "Archie, billiards have a demoralizing effect upon you. I shan't play with you again."
"I don't want to bribe you," says Chesney, turning a little pale, and declining to notice her interruption; "I should be sorry to think I could do so; but I have ten thousand a year, and if you will marry me you shall have a thousand a year pin-money, and five thousand if you survive me."