With a cigarette in his mouth, which he was languidly smoking, Sargent strolled pensively down the path, and finally came to a halt before the pretty figure on the garden-seat. Lesbia looked at him blankly, and gave him no encouragement.
"A penny for your thoughts, Miss Hale," said the gallant captain, forced by her silence to utter the first word.
"They are worth the Bank of England," replied Lesbia, resolving to make the best of this bore, since to get rid of him by plain speaking only meant unnecessary trouble with her father.
"In that case," said Sargent softly, and advancing nearer, "may I hope they were of me?"
"If you are so very egotistic," said the girl bitingly, "you can think so."
"You are cruel," muttered Sargent, somewhat disconcerted. He had not expected so cutting a speech from so apparently timid a girl. "Why are you so cruel to me, Lesbia--I may call you Lesbia, may I not?"
"No," said Lesbia coldly, "I see no reason why you should. As to being cruel, Captain Sargent, I am not aware that I am."
"Surely," fenced the captain, "you are aware that I love you."
Lesbia laughed, and he was more disconcerted than ever. "I am aware that my father wishes me to marry you; but he said nothing of love."
"He left it for me to say."