"Very jolly indeed," I said. I turned my head that I might not see his shining scalp. Thank heaven, I thought, Hughy doesn't know enough to be deterred by two rejections, nor even by the gossip about Strathay. I wished—it was wicked, of course—I wished I were his widow; but I was determined not to repeat such folly as I had shown about the Earl.
"Very jolly," I repeated, "but you don't know what a coward I am; I believe I'd be afraid."
"Aw, no, Miss Winship," he remonstrated; "afraid of the mobe? Aw, no; not with me. I'll teach you how to run it, I do assuah you; awf'ly jolly that would be."
"Why, yes; that would be nice, of course," I said; "but—"
Oh, how shall I tell the rest? I was afraid of the machine; I knew I could never mount it, with his hand on the lever; I was just trying to refuse without offending him.
"—I'm such a coward, really," I went on; I smiled painstakingly into his stupid pink face that seemed suddenly to have grown pinker; and then I felt my smile stiffen upon my lips, for he had whirled around on the piano stool on which he was sitting, and he smiled back at me, but not as he would have done in Mrs. Whitney's presence. He—he leered!
"You wouldn't be afraid, with me, y' know,—" was all he said, but he rose as if to come nearer me.
"Oh, yes, I should—I should—" I stammered; I couldn't move; I couldn't look away from him.
I seemed face to face with some foolish, grinning masque of horror. My heart beat as I think a bird's must when a snake has eyed it; and a cold moisture broke out upon me.
"Oh, yes, I should!" I cried as I broke loose from the spell of terror, and made some halting excuse to get rid of him. I didn't dare even wait to see him leave the room, but fled from it myself, conscious as I went of his open-mouthed stare, and of his detaining: "Aw, now, Miss Winship—"