“That you are going to belong to me? Well, no, I did not. You forgot to give me permission.”
Her face flushed shyly at his words.
“You must think me a queer girl, Max,” she said. “And you are so good and patient with me, in spite of my queer ways. But, never mind; they will not last always, I hope.” 268
“Which?—my virtues or your queerness?” he asked.
She only smiled and pushed the gold under the pillow.
“Go away now for a little while. I want to rest.”
“Well, rest if you like; but don’t think. You have been fretting over some little personal troubles until you fancy them heavy enough to overbalance the world. But they won’t. And I’m not going to try and persuade you into Haydon’s house, either, now that you’ve been good to me; unless, of course, you fall in love with Margaret, and want to be with her, and it is likely to happen. But Uncle Seldon and my aunts will be delighted to have you, and you could live as quiet as you please there.”
“So I am likely to fall in love with Margaret, am I?” she asked. “Why? Does everybody? Did you—Max? Now, don’t blush like that, or I’ll be sure of it. I never saw you blush so pretty before. It made you almost good looking. Now go; I want to be alone.”
“Sha’n’t I send one of the ladies up?”
“Not a soul! Go, Max. I am tired.”