Mr. Diggs paused, and tried to look sentimental; but a more sheepish, simple-looking specimen of humanity Irene was sure she had never before beheld.
The farce had been carried too far, and she said coldly:
"Your manner and words are quite incomprehensible, Mr. Diggs."
"I will make myself plain," said Mr. Diggs, swallowing something in his throat, and taking hope. "You shall understand me. I say I cannot leave for the field of battle, cannot face the cannon's mouth, in this suspense—"
"Then don't go, Mr. Diggs," interrupted Irene, with difficulty restraining her merriment, all her pity put to flight by his affectation and conceit.
"I should almost feel inclined to turn a deaf ear to the 'obstreperous trump of fame,' and 'only list to love and thine,' should you command me to stay."
"Sir, you are growing more and more incomprehensible. Let us leave this subject."
"Not yet, oh no, not yet! Wait until you have heard all. I love you, Irene, dearest, and—and—ah! come to my arms and say you will be mine!"
Down he went on one knee, with upturned face and out-stretched arms. Poor Irene felt an almost irresistible impulse to laugh, and for a moment dared not speak.
He mistook her silence and again began to plead.