"I asked her to marry me this afternoon," Mr. Magnet blurted out. "I couldn't help it."
Mrs. Pope made her silence very impressive.
"I know I ought not to have done so without consulting you"—he went on lamely; "I'm very much in love with her. It's——It's done no harm."
Mrs. Pope's voice was soft and low. "I had no idea, Mr. Magnet.... You know she is very young. Twenty. A mother——"
"I know," said Magnet. "I can quite understand. But I've done no harm. She refused me. I shall go away to-morrow. Go right away for ever.... I'm sorry."
Another long silence.
"To me, of course, she's just a child," Mrs. Pope said at last. "She is only a child, Mr. Magnet. She could have had no idea that anything of the sort was in your mind——"
Her words floated away into the stillness.
For a time they said no more. The lilies came into sight, dreaming under a rich green shade on a limpid pool of brown water, water that slept and brimmed over as it were, unconsciously into a cool splash and ripple of escape. "How beautiful!" cried Mrs. Pope, for a moment genuine.
"I spoke to her here," said Mr. Magnet.