"You have not quarrelled, I hope?"
Dora lifted her head and looked bravely into her father's eyes.
"No, we haven't quarrelled, father dear. On the way home he asked me to marry him within a month from now."
"And you said?"
"And I promised that I would, father."
CHAPTER XXI.
A MATTER OF WAGES.
After this declaration, Dora's father, knowing something of the nature of women, expected a fresh outburst of tears. But none came. Dora turned towards her glass, and a moment later wheeled round with a smile upon her face.
"And so, you see, dear," she said, "you must make the most of me, while you have me. It does seem a short time, doesn't it--a month--such a very little time for us to be together!"
Mr Maybury took the girl's soft hand in his and looked thoughtfully into her face. For this news came as a sudden shock to him. He had not anticipated parting with her for at least a twelve-month--or perhaps more--from the day of her betrothal to Harold Jefferson.