“It shall be as you wish,” he said, very firm and soldierly.
Once more she looked up at him, her eyes full of far-away tenderness.
“I cannot help myself,” she whispered. “I shall never love—again.”
Gerard found the Judge in the coffee-room. And with the best face possible—which was a bad one—he confessed that he had reconsidered his proposal of the morning, and must withdraw it. Difficulties had intervened.
“Really?” said the little Judge, coffee-cup in hand. “This is very extraordinary. Of course, if you wish, there is an end of it. But—really, Mynheer van Helmont, you must excuse me—for a moment.” He sidled to the entrance, in wild yearning for his better half, who fortunately met him there, having gathered that something was wrong.
“My dear,” whispered the Judge, “Mynheer van Helmont has changed his mind about marrying Topsy. He isn’t going to.”
“Nonsense, Frederick!” ejaculated Mevrouw Elizabeth. “Tell him it’s all right. Tell him to go and ask her at once.”
The little Judge went back into the desolate refreshment-room. His substantial consort lingered near the door.
“Mynheer van Helmont,” said Frederick, “it’s all right. You had better go and ask her at once.”
“Mynheer van Rexelaer,” replied Gerard, scarlet as a poppy, “I thought I had made myself understood. I abandon all further idea of proposing to your daughter.”