Bonnibel stared at her in silent surprise.
"You have refused an offer of marriage from Colonel Carlyle," said Mrs. Arnold in a tone of deep displeasure.
Bonnibel's fair cheeks deepened their color ever so slightly.
"Yes, madam, I have," she answered after a moment's thought. "But I am ignorant of the means by which you became cognizant of the fact."
"It does not matter," Mrs. Arnold replied, flushing to a dark red under the clear pure eyes bent upon her. "Perhaps he told me himself. One would think that even so elderly a lover would consult a young lady's guardian and protector before addressing her! But no matter how I came by my information, you admit its truth."
"Certainly, madam," Bonnibel answered quietly, but wondering within herself what all this fencing meant. She was growing slightly nervous. The fair hands trembled slightly as they hung lightly clasped before her, and the white and red rose triumphed alternately in her cheek.
Mrs. Arnold stood resting her folded arms on the back of a chair, regarding the lovely young creature as if she had been a culprit before the bar of justice.
"May I ask what were your reasons for declining the honor Colonel Carlyle offered you?" she inquired in measured tones.
Bonnibel was half-tempted to deny Mrs. Arnold's right to ask such a question. With an effort she fought down the quick impulse, and answered in a voice as gentle as the other's was rude and self-assertive: