'Unless in the park—beyond that I always like to have one,' said Olive.
'Are you pleased to have me for one?' he asked, in a low voice, and pretty pointedly.
'Of course,' she answered, frankly.
'How charming to be at hand in case of danger!'
'What possible danger?' asked Olive, with surprise.
'Oh, the untimely appearance of an infuriated stag or the proverbial mad bull of the three-volume novel.'
'Why not a brigand or a Bengal tiger?' said Olive, laughing; then, suddenly becoming grave, she added—'But, by the way, talking of Bengal, please to give me back my bangle.'
'Why?'
'Simply because I cannot permit you to retain it,' she replied, little foreseeing to what the natural request might lead.
'Do not deprive me of it!' he urged, softly and entreatingly.