"The little minx is too smart for me," answered Mrs. Bunker.
"She is so non-committal," said Lord Canning. "I know she esteems me and all that; at times, I have fancied that I even interest her. But as to—" he gazed gloomily into the fire. "Well, it will be necessary for me to clinch things very soon, time is passing with dangerous rapidity—but still passing. Mrs. Bunker, when I met you in Cannes over a year ago, I did not know what a great influence you were fated to throw on my life. If she loves me, I will never forget that it is through you—"
"Don't thank me—yet," said Mrs. Bunker, shrewdly. "Wait until you're married a year."
"Oh, I have no fears on that score," asserted Lord Canning, with a very self-confident air.
"You don't know Indiana. If you attempted to cross her, she'd tear your hair out!"
"Goodness gracious!" exclaimed Lord Canning, laughing heartily. "Don't think you can frighten me by a little thing like that!"
"If I thought so," reflected Mrs. Bunker, "I wouldn't have told you, no matter how true it might be. Oh, nothing would stop you now, Lord Canning!"
"Nothing! I have lived a very matter-of-fact life—never very miserable, or the other extreme. I have had great satisfaction in my work. Now it's time I snatched a little happiness."
"Indeed it is," said Mrs. Bunker, in a soothing voice. Men, to her, were like big children—to be humored.
They had moved gradually toward the fire. "These logs," continued Lord Canning, "are a magnet towards which my eyes have been drawn every night since I came. If you knew what I see in them—such a sweet domestic picture, a vision of true happiness!"