"Miss Terrill, will you marry me?"
The shock of the proposal took away her breath.
"I am young and of good family; fairly good looking and sound in limb. I have a steady income of £1,200 a year and a silver property in Nevada that may very easily bring in ten thousand a year more. Also," he added, "I love you."
No woman can receive a proposal of marriage, even from an eccentric young man perched on the top of a step ladder, without the tremor of agitation peculiar to the occasion.
Alicia Terrill went hot and cold, flushed and paled with the intensity of her various emotions, but made no reply.
"Very well then!" said the triumphant Duke, "we will take it as settled. I will call——"
"Stop!" She had found her voice. Sifting her emotions indignation had bulked overwhelmingly and she faced him with flaming cheek and the lightning of scorn in her eyes.
"Did you dare think that your impudent proposal had met with any other success than the success it deserved?" she blazed. "Did you imagine because you are so lost to decency, and persecute a girl into listening to your odious offer, that you could bully her into acceptance?"
"Yes," he confessed without shame.
"If you were the last man in the world," she stormed, "I would not accept you. If you were a prince of the blood royal instead of being a wretched little continental duke with a purchased title"—she permitted herself the inaccuracy—"if you were a millionaire twenty times over, I would not marry you!"