"Well, I do--not."
"And yet you cannot love me? Alas, I am most unfortunate!"
"Let this end, dear Mr. Caradoc," said Winifred, almost sobbing, and deeply repenting that she had taken his arm for a little promenade that was to end in a proposal. Phil, being in full uniform, played with, or swung somewhat nervously, the tassels of his crimson sash, a favourite resort of young officers when in any dubiety or dilemma. After a little pause--
"May I speak to Sir Madoc on the subject?" he asked.
"No."
"Perhaps my friend Harry Hardinge might advise--"
"Nay, for Heaven's sake don't confer with him on the matter at all!"
"Why?" said he, startled by her earnestness.
"Would you make love to me through him--through another?"
"You entirely mistake my meaning."