"That is something like what I did ask, if I remember well," the girl answered with provoking indifference.
"Then it is—because—I love you!" he whispered, almost huskily.
The band continued to fill the balmy air with its sweet, suggestive strains. Sounds of laughter and mirth reached them from all sides; Vivian was less of his well-controlled self than ever to-night, but Honor was just as cold and indifferent as if the handsomest and most popular young man in Ottawa had slighted her instead of avowing his unsought love for her.
"Do you hear?" he asked, on seeing her remain persistently indifferent.
"I am not at all hard of hearing, Mr Standish, I assure you," was the cruel answer.
"And is that all the word you have to say in return?" he asked in a tone of wretched surprise.
"You are toying with very serious words," she answered earnestly, "and this is neither time nor place for it. Let us speak of something else."
"May I continue smoking?" he then asked, as coolly as if they had been his first words to her. "If you object, Honor, don't mind saying so. May I at least call you Honor?"
"You overpower me and yourself with such a multitude of questions," the girl answered languidly, "but since you ask me permissions which I grant a great many others, I will not refuse you.."
"Thank you," he said almost sarcastically, "when we are hungry we take the crust that is flung to us, though the dainty morsel served on a crystal plate satisfies us best. What is the matter to-night, Honor, you seem worried and peevish?"