"Oh, surely----"
"No," she replied, lifting her hand to stay his further speech. "I am only a girl, I know, but then I have been brought up in the Colonies, and in these matters I think Australian girls are more self-reliant than those in England."
She might have been a schoolmistress delivering a lecture on manners, so coldly did she speak.
"I like you! I respect you, but I do not love you, and I could marry no man without loving him. We have only known each other three weeks, so are in total ignorance of each other's character. No, Mr. Macjean, much as I thank you for the honour you have done me--the greatest honour a man can offer a woman--yet I must say no."
"Can you give me no hope?"
"I don't think it would be wise to do so. We part to-morrow, and may meet others we like better, so it would be foolish for either you or myself to bind ourselves in any way."
Otterburn, seeing from her cool, composed speech that her mind was made up, arose to his feet with a look of despair on his bright, young face, upon which she also arose from her chair, and laid her hand gently on his shoulder.
"Believe me, you will think as I do later on," she said in a friendly tone; "forget that this conversation has ever taken place, and let us be on the same footing as before. We part to-morrow, as I said before, but it is more than probable that we will meet in London--if so, let us meet as friends."
The composure with which she spoke irritated Otterburn fearfully, the more so as it was so unexpected. This brilliant, piquant creature, who should have been all fire and passion, talked to him as if he were a schoolboy, and argued about love as if she was an elderly dry as-dust professor of science. Perhaps Victoria knew this, and, as she did not wish to marry Otterburn, thought that such a cold-blooded way of discussing his passion, from a worldly point of view, would have the effect of making him care less about her refusal to marry him.
They stood looking at one another for a moment, the man angry at what he considered her unjustifiable treatment, the woman composed, but withal a trifle frightened at the tempest she had provoked.