"No. For that cure I shall hand you over to Diana."
"Miss Priscilla!" And Lucian coloured again, this time with vexation.
"Oh, Mr. Denzil," laughed the governess, "because I am old you must not imagine that I am blind. I see that you love Diana."
"Better than my life!" cried the devoted lover with much fervour.
"Of course! That is the usual romantic answer to make. Well, why do you not tell Diana so, with any pretty additions your fancy suggests?"
"She might not listen to me," said this doubting lover dolefully.
"Very true," replied his consoler. "On the other hand, she might. Besides, Mr. Denzil, however much the world may have altered since my youth, I have yet to learn that it is the lady's part to propose to the gentleman."
"But, Miss Barbar, I am poor!"
"What of that? Diana is rich."