“Yes, I do,” she answered. “And you need not shut your jaw hard and grit your teeth that way. That is exactly what he did when he found out about Mr. Raybold. It is of no use to get angry, for you can’t do anything without my permission; and, besides, I tell you that if I were condemned by a court to be made love to, I would much rather have Martin make it than Mr. Raybold. Martin is a good deal more than a guide; he has a good education, and would not be here if it were not for his love of nature. He is going to make nature his object in life, and there is something noble in that; a great deal better than trying to strut about on the stage.”
“And those two have really been making love to you?” asked Clyde.
“Yes, really,” she answered. “You never saw people more in earnest in all your life. As for Mr. Raybold, he was as earnest as a cat after a bird. He made me furiously angry. Martin was different. He is just as earnest, but he is more of a gentleman; and when I told him what I wanted him to do, he said he would do it. But there is no use in telling your cousin what I want him to do. He is determined to persecute me and make me miserable, and there is no way of stopping it, except by making a quarrel between him and Uncle Archibald. It is a shame!” she went on, “Who could have thought that two people would have turned up to disturb me in this way.”
“Margery,” said Mr. Clyde, and although he called her by her Christian name she took no notice of it, “you think you have too many lovers: but you are mistaken. You have not enough; you ought to have three.”
She looked at him inquiringly.
“Yes,” he said, quickly, “and I want to be the third.”
“And so make matters three times as bad as they were at first?” she asked.
“Not at all,” said he. “When you have chosen one of them, he could easily keep away the two others.”
“Do you mean,” said Margery, “that if I were to agree to have three, and then, if I were to ask you to do it, you would go away quietly with one of the others and leave me in peace with the third one?”
Mr. Clyde half smiled, but instantly grew serious again, and a flush came on his face. “Margery,” said he, “I cannot bear trifling any more about this. No matter what anybody has said to you, whether it is any one in this camp or any one out of it, there is not a man in this world who—”