"Well?" Harold echoed, in the same tone.
"What did you think of it all, Harold?"
"I think, Ernest, I shall propose to Miss Walters."
There was a moment's silence, and a black look gathered slowly on Ernest Carnegie's brow. Then he said very deliberately, "You are in a great hurry coming to conclusions, Harold. You've seen very little of her yet; and remember, it was I who first discovered her!"
Harold glanced at him angrily and half contemptuously.
"You discovered her first!" he said. "Yes, and you are always beforehand with me; but you shall not be beforehand with me this time. I shall propose to her at once, to prevent your anticipating me. So now you know my intentions plainly, and you can govern yourself accordingly."
Ernest looked back at him with a long look from head to foot.
"It is war then," he said, "Harold; war, you will have it? We are rivals?"
"Yes, rivals," Harold answered; "and war to the knife if so you wish it."
"War?"