After a little while both Dollie and Miss Allyn excused themselves, and Marion and Reginald Brookes were alone together.
“Miss Marlowe,” said the doctor, after they had been chatting for some time, “I came here to-night on a rather serious errand. I hope I shall not frighten you by telling you about it, but honestly I can’t keep it to myself much longer.”
He spoke so earnestly and so gently that Marion’s cheeks flushed in an instant. She seemed to feel what was coming, although she tried not to show it.
“You are a dear, good girl, Miss Marlowe,” he whispered, coming closer to her on the sofa, “and I’m an impetuous chap—I can’t make love on schedule! You see, it’s this way,” he went on, talking eagerly, “I fell in love with you that night on the train. It came over me in a second, and I couldn’t resist it. Not that I tried very hard,” he said, laughing a little and pressing the slender fingers that he had found and imprisoned.
“But you don’t know me at all, Dr. Brookes,” Marion tried to answer.
“Oh, I do, indeed!” was the ardent reply. “I know that you are good and brave and noble. I know that your sister and Miss Allyn love you dearly. Then my mother almost fell in love with you that evening, too, and last, but not least, I know that I love you, and if that isn’t enough I’d like to know what is lacking.”
He was kneeling close by her side now, looking up into her eyes, and as Marion saw his handsome face, with its candid, fearless expression, she felt overwhelmed with shame that she had ever doubted him.
Still, he was waiting for her to answer and she must be perfectly honest: She liked him exceedingly well, but did she love him?
Almost as if for answer, the dark, pleading face of Mr. Ray seemed to rise before her vision. Marion caught her breath quickly and her voice trembled as she answered:
“Wait—please wait,” she murmured, with a bewitching smile. “I do not know my own mind yet—and your words are so unexpected.”