"Look here, Madeline," he said, after a long pause, staring hard at her, "tell me candidly who's been putting these silly notions into your pretty little head."
"I wish you would not talk to me as though I had the head of a baby," she said, a little indignantly. "You should remember that I am no longer a child," and she turned and walked slowly out of the room.
Gervase went off to the library at once to interview his father. The days were passing away, and he was getting no nearer the realisation of his desire. All his interviews with her ended where they began. Whenever he approached the subject nearest his heart and his interests, she always managed to shunt him off to some side issue.
Sir Charles was busy writing letters, but he looked up at once when Gervase entered.
"Can you spare time for a little talk?" the son asked, abruptly.
"Why, of course I can," was the reply. "Is there something particular you wish to talk about?"
"Well, the truth is," he said, in a tone of irritation, "I am not getting on with Madeline a bit."
"Perhaps you are too eager and impatient. You must remember that Madeline is not the girl to be driven."
"Yes, I've heard that before," he said, angrily. "You have always harped on that string. But you've been in the wrong, I'm sure you have. If you'd only let me have my way I would have proposed to her three years ago."
"And spoiled everything."