Miss Earle looked at him with such clear, innocent, and unwavering eyes that the young man felt that he could neither apologise nor make an explanation.
“I’m afraid,” he said, “that I am encroaching on your time.”
“Yes, I think you are: that is, if you intend to live up to your contract, and let me live up to mine. You have no idea how much more interesting this book is than you are.”
“Why, you are not a bit flattering, Miss Earle, are you?”
“No, I don’t think I am. Do you try to be?”
“I’m afraid that in my lifetime I have tried to be, but I assure you, Miss Earle, that I don’t try to be flattering, or try to be anything but what I really am when I am in your company. To tell the truth, I am too much afraid of you.”
Miss Earle smiled and went on with her reading, while Morris went once more back into the smoking-room.
“Now then,” said George Morris, when lunch was over, “which is it to be? The luxurious languor of the steamer chair or the energetic exercise of the deck? Take your choice.”
“Well,” answered the young lady, “as I have been enjoying the luxurious languor all the forenoon, I prefer the energetic exercise, if it is agreeable to you, for a while, at least.”
“It is very agreeable to me. I am all energy this afternoon. In fact, now that you have consented to allow me to talk with you, I feel as if I were imbued with a new life.”