"I did and do admire Miss Cavan very much," he answered, promptly. "I should like to paint her as Vivien charming Merlin, both of them in modern evening-dress, with Miss Cavan showing off her beautiful white neck and arms for a senile and rather Jewish-looking Merlin's edification. Miss Cavan represents a very attractive type, but not the type I should care to marry."
"You talk," she said, with a touch of impatience in her tone, "as though any girl would jump at the chance of marrying you!"
"I certainly don't mean to convey that impression," he retorted; "although I am sorry to say that many girls I meet would be delighted to marry Alexander Wallace's nephew, whatever he might be like—old, ugly, deformed, or hateful—just for the sake of Alexander Wallace's money!"
"And is it that belief," she asked, blushing hotly, "which made you so confident in my case?"
"Lina," he exclaimed, in reproachful tones, "why do you ask me such a question? It is neither fair to yourself nor to me."
"Well, I get annoyed when you show how sure you felt of winning me," she explained, apologetically.
"Of course," he said, flicking his horse's ears reflectively with his whip—"of course I knew that in time I should worry you into saying 'Yes.' But at first I own I was a good deal troubled by the strange look of repulsion and even a fear that came into your lovely eyes when you looked at me. You remember when, as I left the house after my first visit, I turned and looked back and caught you watching my departure from a window on the ground-floor?"
"I remember."
"Well, your look then was one of terror and dislike combined, which simply struck dismay into my soul. Tell me, Lina—why did you look at me like that?"