"Let us pray beforehand, for the one who gets the worst of it," he said. "He or she will need it. But I shall win at the game, you know. That's a foregone conclusion."
Fanny was surprised and amused at the confidence he suddenly affected—very unlike his habitual modesty and self-effacement.
"You seem pretty sure of yourself," she answered. "What shall the forfeit be, as they say in the children's games?"
"To marry or not to marry, at the discretion of the winner. I think that's fair, don't you? I shouldn't like to propose anything serious—the head of Roger Brinsley in a charger, for instance."
Fanny laughed again.
"Yes, it's all very well!" she protested. "But of course the one who loses will be in earnest, and the one who wins will not."
"He may be, by that time," suggested Lawrence.
"Don't say 'he,' so confidently—I mean to win. Besides, are we starting fair? Of course I don't care an atom for you, but don't you care for me—just a little?"
"I!" exclaimed Lawrence. "What an idea!" He laughed quite as naturally as Fanny herself. "Do you think that a man in love would propose such a game as we are talking about?" he asked.
"I'm sure I don't know what to think," answered the young girl. "Perhaps I shall know in a day or two."