"It wasn't," said Jack, with emphasis suited to the solemnity of the declaration. "I meant every word of it; and now I say, like the Beast in the fairy tale—'Beauty, will you marry me?'"
"And she always said,—'No, Beast,'" said Bluebell, laughing; "and then he went away, 'very sorrowful.'"
"Yes, but that's the difference. I shan't go away, or let you, till you say 'Yes.'"
"I couldn't, really," said she, treating it as a joke. "So we shall be starved to death, and covered up by birds, like the babes in the wood."
"No; we will live happy ever afterwards," passing an arm round her waist with an air of proprietorship. "Shall I tell Colonel Rolleston to-night?"
"Oh, this is too serious," cried Bluebell, energetically freeing herself. "If you really want an answer to such stuff, most decidedly 'No.'"
Jack, in furious mortification, for he saw she was now thoroughly in earnest, poured forth reproaches, accusing her of coquetry and purposely deceiving him, caring not if his words were just or unjust; and Bluebell's conscience was not altogether guiltless. Perhaps her own disappointment made her better understand his; for she waited patiently till the torrent of words had a little subsided, and then, laying her hand persuasively on his arm, said with gentle archness,—
"Don't be angry, Jack. What should we live on? I haven't a penny, you can't always pay your mess bill, and I am afraid an officer's wife couldn't go on the strength of the regiment, and take in washing."
"I didn't think you were so mercenary," said he, looking into her liquid eyes, that were fast quenching the angry light in his.
"I suppose I must be," said Bluebell, naively; "for I hate poverty so. You know my father married—just as you want to do—a pretty girl without a dollar to her name."