She raised her eyes swiftly a moment, then lowered them again.
"I don't know; I didn't mean to," she said apologetically.
"Didn't you forget that I told you to come to me and get my answer to your question?"
"No, sir, I didn't forget. That was what I was thinking of all night."
"About your asking me to marry you?"
"Yessir."
"And my saying it was impossible?"
"Yessir, and I said, 'Why is it impossible?' and you said, 'Because—' and then you left off; but please, Mr. Lancelot, I didn't want to know the answer this morning."
"But I want to tell you. Why don't you want to know?"
"Because I found out for myself, Mr. Lancelot. That's what I found out when I was crying—but there was nothing to find out, sir. I knew it all along. It was silly of me to ask you—but you know I am silly sometimes, sir, like I was when my mother was dying. And that was why I made up my mind not to bother you any more, Mr. Lancelot, I knew you wouldn't like to tell me straight out."