This show of civility was the first shadow on our unceremonious intercourse. In spite of myself I was this evening grave and stiff, and not to be approached with the customary affectionate familiarity. There was silence while one might have counted twenty. Then I said—
'That was your proposal, was it not?'
I spoke so gravely, so humbly, that my question, rude as it was in itself, could not offend.
'Why—yes,' said he in a tone as low and as serious as my own. 'What's the matter, Harry?'
'Will you tell me, honestly, why you want to stay?'
His big burning eyes looked intently into my face, and then he put one long thin hand through his hair and laughed.
'Well, after all that you've done to make our stay agreeable, that's a queer question to ask.'
I put my hand on his shoulder and forced him to keep still.
'Look here, Faby, I don't want to insult you, you know; but are you staying because of that little girl?'
He drew himself up and answered me with a very fine and knightly fire—