"Until you knew your own heart," I put in. "The question is how long will it take you? Probably, if you would allow me to teach you----"
"Your presence here now stamps you as--as horribly deceitful!"
"Undoubtedly," I nodded; "but, you see, when I was foolish enough to give that promise, your very excellent Aunt made no reference to her intentions regarding a certain Mr. Selwyn."
"Oh!" exclaimed Lisbeth. And feeling that I had made a point, I continued with redoubled ardour:
"She gave me to understand that she merely wished you to have time to know your own heart in the matter. Now, as I said before, how long will it take you to find out, Lisbeth?"
She sat, chin in hand, staring straight before her, and her black brows were still drawn together in a frown. But I watched her mouth--just where the scarlet underlip curved up to meet its fellow.
Lisbeth's mouth is a trifle wide, perhaps, and rather full-lipped, and somewhere at one corner--I can never be quite certain of its exact location, because its appearance is, as a rule, so very meteoric--but somewhere there is a dimple. Now, if ever there was an arrant traitor in this world it is that dimple; for let her expression be ever so guileless, let her wistful eyes be raised with a look of tears in their blue depths, despite herself that dimple will spring into life and undo it all in a moment. So it was now; even as I watched, it quivered round her lips, and feeling herself betrayed, the frown vanished altogether and she smiled.
"And now, Dick, suppose you give me my--my----"
"Conditionally," I said, sitting down beside her.
The sun had set, and from somewhere among the purple shadows of the wood the rich, deep notes of a blackbird came to us, with pauses now and then, filled in with the rustle of leaves and the distant lowing of cows.