"Why?" burst out Lovel--"because I love you. Listen to me, Milly--now, it is no use your frowning--I shall call you by that name: I love you--I love you!"
"Oh!" said Miss Lester with great coolness, "then Miss Clyde----"
"I know what you are about to say," he said quickly--"that I love Miss Clyde. But you are wrong. It is true that I admired her, but when you came----" He flung out his hands and caught those of the girl's. "Milly," said he earnestly, "you have brought me to your feet for a jest; that jest must become--earnest. You must marry me."
"How you talk!" said Milly fretfully. "You know I can't marry you."
"Because of Mr. Herne--a man you don't care for?"
"Because of Mr. Herne--to whom I have been engaged for six months."
"But you don't care for him!" persisted Lovel.
"I care for him sufficiently to marry him," answered the girl evasively.
"What is the use of trying to deceive me, Milly? You marry Herne for his money and position."
"Well, and what if I do!" cried Miss Lester, flushing; "is it not my duty to do the best I can for myself and my people? What is father?--a poor country doctor with a miserable income. Our house should be called Poverty Villa, it is so wretched; and Iris worries me morn, noon, and night."