"Good Heavens!—when?"
"Now."
"But I don't want to see her now."
"But you told me"—Miss MacNish looked thoroughly puzzled—"you told me just what you were going to say to her. You said it was all predestined."
"Miss MacNish, it was not Miss McTavish I was thinking of—I'm sure it wasn't. It was you."
"Are you proposing to me?" she asked.
"Of course, I am. Come into the garden—I can't talk on these steps, right on top of a gravel walk with a distant vista of three gardeners and a cartful of sand."
"I must say," said Miss MacNish, "that this is the suddenest thing that ever happened to me."
"But you said you believed in love at first sight," McTavish explained. "You knew yesterday what had happened to me—don't say you didn't, because I saw you smiling to yourself. You might come into the garden and let me say my say."
She didn't budge.