"Miss Doon having extracted a direct question got to business at once, but veiled her common-sense under a delightful confusion. I really don't know, baron--I must call you by that name, it sounds so high-class--really I don't know. Of course I was born for a coronet."
"It would look well on that delicate head."
"I'm sure it would," replied Miss Doon, with conviction. "But you see, baron, I must have a gold coronet, and you"--she looked round the room.
"Yes," said Bocaros sadly. "I am poor--miserably poor. But," his eyes blazed so suddenly that she drew back startled, "you may be able to make me rich."
"Baron, I do not grasp your meaning."
Bocaros looked at her doubtfully. "Are you a strong-minded woman?" he asked; "are you willing to do something for money?"
Emily grew nervous. "What do you mean, professor?"
"I mean that I can obtain an income of some thousands a year if you will help me to get it."
The bait was too tempting for Miss Doon to resist, so she nibbled.
"So long as it is anything a lady can do," she observed modestly. "And I am confident, baron, that you would not like the future bearer of your noble coronet to do anything wrong."