Until now she had kept her head slightly turned away; but with her question Betty faced her companion, her expression grave and interested.
Yet she was surprised to see that the young man's blue eyes now closed slightly while his fair face flushed with what appeared to be an odd combination of satisfaction and regret.
"But you are no longer poor, Miss Ashton," he answered unexpectedly. "I have lately heard of your good fortune, and while it is very little compared to the amount my father expected me to marry, it may be enough. At least, I have been able to persuade him that I care for you so much that we must make it do."
Carl von Reuter spoke quite frankly without any special embarrassment, for it did not seem to him that his speech was in any way remarkable. Indeed, it should make Betty realize the extent of his admiration for her that he had been able to overlook the smallness of her inheritance in comparison with his own needs. Why, a week before he should not have been able to make any declaration of his own feelings! Yet now he was offering his title, his castle, almost his whole future, to an American girl whose estate was so small that it could scarcely do more than cover their debts. And that Betty should not be honored by his offer was beyond his point of view. A German girl would have appreciated the sacrifice he was making; so why not an American?
Betty sat perfectly still during his explanation, with her hands clasped tightly together, showing white against the blue folds of her dress. In her whole life she had never felt so astounded, so completely overwhelmed, and in truth so angry. How could any man coolly say to her that he was willing to marry her in spite of the smallness of her fortune, plainly insinuating at the same moment that unless she had had the good luck to come into her unexpected inheritance she should never have received the honor at all.
The girl's cheeks first flushed hotly and then she felt herself growing pale and self-possessed. Never in her life had she had a more important demand made upon her dignity and good sense. For she must not show any kind of ill-feeling. Thank goodness that she was able to give the only kind of reply that could carry any kind of weight or conviction to her companion and that she could say it with all truthfulness. For never had Betty Ashton felt less affection for any friend she had ever had than she did at this instant for the young nobleman.
"You are very kind, Lieutenant von Reuter," she now answered quietly, "and I greatly appreciate the honor which you feel you have given me. But I don't care for you in the way that you wish me to and I am very, very sure that I never can. Do you not now think it time for us to go and join the others?"
And Betty talked pleasantly and unaffectedly of other things, while her host led her back on the return journey between his lines of distinguished ancestors, although the young man himself scarcely made a reply to one of her remarks.