"Stay, Harriet—Miss Hunsden! Stop—for pity's sake, stop and hear me!
I have been presuming—impertinent. I have deserved your rebuke."
"You have," she said, haughtily.
"But I asked those questions because the nameless insinuations I heard drove me mad—because I love you, I worship you, with all my heart and soul."
Like an impetuous torrent the words burst out. He actually flung himself on his knees before her.
"My beautiful, queenly, glorious Harriet! I love you as man never loved woman before!"
Miss Hunsden stood aghast, staring, absolutely confounded. For one instant she stood thus; then all was forgotten in her sense of the ludicrous. She leaned against a tree, and set up a shout of laughter long and clear.
"Oh, good gracious!" cried Miss Hunsden, as soon as she was able to speak; "who ever heard the like of this? Sir Everard Kingsland, get up. I forgive you everything for this superhuman joke. I haven't had such a laugh for a month. For goodness' sake get up, and don't be a goose!"
The young baronet sprung to his feet, furious with mortification and rage.
"Miss Hunsden—"
"Oh, don't!" cried Harriet, in a second paroxysm. "Don't make me rupture an artery. Love me?—worship me? Why, you ridiculous thing! you haven't known me two days altogether!"