"Indeed why?"
"Because--oh! you understand?"
"I'm sure I don't," replied Miss Sheldon, demurely, then looking up, she caught his eye, and they both laughed gaily.
The conservatory was certainly a very pleasant place, with its wealth of palms, of cactuses, of ferns and such-like tropical vegetation. A pale, emerald radiance from green-shaded lamps bathed the whole place, and at one end a slender jet of water shot up like a silver rod from the stillness of a wide pool, in which floated great white water-lilies. The band in the distant ball-room were playing a pot pourri of airs from the latest opera, and Otterburn sat under the drooping fronds of a palm-tree beside Victoria, with the fatal words which would bind him for life trembling on his lips. So handsome he looked in his picturesque Scotch dress, with the waving tartans and gleam of Cairngorm brooches, and his bright young face bent towards her, full of tender meaning. Victoria knew quite well that he intended to propose again, and her heart beat rapidly as her eyes fell before the fiery light which burned in his own.
"I suppose you have quite forgotten Como?" said Otterburn, in what he meant to be a matter-of-fact tone.
Miss Sheldon began to draw designs on the floor with the toe of her dainty boot, and laughed nervously.
"Oh no! it was the first time I was in Italy, you know, and first impressions----"
"Are always excellent."
"Yes, I suppose so."
"I hope you don't think the same about first refusals."