“Send the girl on,” said he, peremptorily, in a low voice.
After a moment’s hesitation Miss Eden obeyed.
“Now,” said he, with a certain imperiousness which surprised himself, “tell me what you meant by being so indignant when old Blaise asked if you wanted to marry me?”
The girl’s eyes sparkled, and she held her head high. He was right, however, in thinking that there was something not discouraging in their expression.
“Well, I don’t want to marry you,” replied she, blandly.
“Wouldn’t you rather do that than marry him? Now, tell the truth.”
“I don’t know what you mean, Mr Bayre, by putting on these stand-and-deliver airs with me. This morning you were quite meek by comparison.”
“Well, you put my back up by the lofty tone in which you told that old fellow that you didn’t want to marry me!” said Bayre, looking down into her face with assurance that surprised himself, as he noted that she was considerably agitated, although she held fast to a light and careless tone.
“Well, I didn’t mean to be rude, but what could I say? Would you have had me tell him that I did want to marry you?”
And at last, for a swift instant, she let her bright eyes glance towards his face.