"The brim is broad," she said. "If any thing drops, I hope it will drop on it, instead of on me. Now, what did you want to say?" He had not sat down, but stood leaning against the rustic wood-work. He looked pale, and was evidently trying to be cooler than usual.
"I brought you here to ask you a question."
"Well," she remarked, "I hope it's an important one. You look serious enough."
"It is important,—rather," he responded, with a tone of sarcasm. "You will probably go away soon?"
"That isn't exactly a question," she commented, "and it's not as important to you as to me."
He paused a moment, annoyed because he found it difficult to go on; annoyed because she waited with such undisturbed serenity. But at length he managed to begin again.
"I do not think you are expecting the question I am going to ask," he said. "I—do not think I expected to ask it myself,—until to-day. I do not know why—why I should ask it so awkwardly, and feel—at such a disadvantage. I brought you here to ask you—to marry me."
He had scarcely spoken four words before all her airy manner had taken flight, and she had settled herself down to listen. He had noticed this, and had felt it quite natural. When he stopped, she was looking straight into his face. Her eyes were singularly large and bright and clear.
"You did not expect to ask me to marry you?" she said. "Why didn't you?"
It was not at all what he had expected. He did not understand her manner at all.