The idea was a pleasing one, but of course Pen pointed out to him that it was his duty to do it whether she married him or not.
"Duty is duty," said Pen. "I'm doing all this out of a sense of duty."
"Don't marry out of a sense of it," retorted Plant. "I just want to be loved. I'm going around feeling I want to be loved. I've never been loved properly all my life, and I begin to hanker after it wildly. And, if you do marry me, Lady Penelope, I want you to understand right here and now that I don't want you to do your duty by me. If you begin to do that, I'll take a Colt's forty-five and scatter my brains out. I want love, that's what I want. I want it straight, without water in it."
"I see what you mean," said Penelope. "I think you are a very noble-hearted man, Mr. Plant."
And away went poor Plant to draw up a scheme for a university.
"I think I could almost love him," said the pensive Penelope. "I could—almost—"
Her contemplations were interrupted by Captain Goby. He was a little paler than usual, and perhaps a trifle more intelligent. And he was more in love than ever.
"I've done everything you told me," he said, as he sat down and eyed her wistfully. "I've gone into poetry like a bull at a hedge, Lady Penelope. I begin to see what it means. Old Austin (poor old josser) has taken the deuce's own pains over me. He's read 'The Lady of the Garden' to me seventeen times. He wrote it ten years ago. He says he wonders how he did it, and so do I. I've been trying to write poetry to you, do you know. That showed me there must be some special gift in it, for I never did anything worth the horrid trouble. And I've been worrying the War Office like a bulldog. They say they'll think of me, and haven't gone any further, and talking of bulldogs, Bob's bulldog bit Austin de Vere, and he swore like a man. I was surprised. But if I were you, I'd tell Bob to stop sending him more dogs. He's very kind to them, but they worry him. Bob's prices are very high, too. How is Bob? Oh, by the way, I'm living on ten pounds a week. Need I reckon tailor's bills in, do you think? Oh, yes, this bulge is the Golden Treasury. I take it out and read a lyric between meals. The chaps at the Rag chaff me like blazes, but I don't mind so long as I improve. I want to improve so as to be worthy of your intellect, Lady Penelope."
"The poor dear," said Pen, when he was gone, "I think I could almost love him!"
As luck would have it, Bob and Austin de Vere came in almost at the same minute. For now Titania couldn't keep Bob away. For the matter of that, she did not want to. Bob was to be Penelope's safeguard. He was much better than Chloe Cadwallader, said Titania.