He took a chair near her. “You are a little unkind to hurry me in this way,” he said, trying to smile, “since you compel me to put my request in very plain blunt language. However, that is perhaps the best plan. Twice I have come to you intending to speak, and have been baffled by fate—”
“Then you might have written, or telegraphed,” she interrupted, “if the matter was so important.”
“Not very well,” he returned, growing very serious. “You know that as well as I do. You must know, dear Miss Starbrow, that I have admired you for a long time. Perhaps you also know that I love you. Miss Starbrow, will you be my wife and make me happy?”
“No, Mr. Chance, I cannot be your wife and make you happy. I must decline your offer.”
Her cold, somewhat ironical tone from the first had prepared him for this result, and he returned almost too quickly, “Oh, I see, you are offended with me for coming to you at this hour. I must suffer the consequences of my mistake, and study to be more cautious and proper in the future. I have always regarded you as an unconventional woman. That, to my mind, is one of your greatest charms; and when I say that I say a good deal. I never imagined that my coming to you like this would have prejudiced you against me.”
She gave a little laugh, but there was an ominous cloud on her face as she answered: “You imagined it was the right thing to do to come at half-past one o'clock in the morning to offer me your hand! Your opinion of my conduct is not a subject I am the least interested in; but whether I am unconventional or not, I assure you, Mr. Chance, that I am not to be pushed or driven one step further than I choose to go.”
“I should never dream of attempting such a thing, Miss Starbrow. But it would be useless to say much more; whatever line I take to-night only makes matters worse for me. But allow me to say one thing before bidding you good-night. The annoyance you feel at the present moment will not last. You have too much generosity, too much intellect, to allow it to rest long in your bosom; and deeply as I feel this rebuff, I am not going to be so weak as to let it darken and spoil my whole life. No, my hope is too strong and too reasonable to be killed so easily. I shall come to you again, and again, and again. For I know that with you for a wife and companion my life would be a happy one; and not happy only, for that is not everything. An ambitious man looks to other greater and perhaps better things.”
The cloud was gone from her brows, and she sat regarding him as he spoke with a slight smile on her lips and a curious critical expression in her eyes. When he finished speaking she laughed and said, “But is my happiness of such little account—do you not propose to make me happy also, Mr. Chance?”
“No,” he returned, his face clouding, and dropping his eyes before her mocking gaze. “You shall not despise me. Single or married, you must make your own happiness or misery. You know that; why do you wish to make me repeat the wretched commonplaces that others use?”
“I'm glad you have so good an opinion of yourself, Mr. Chance,” she replied. “I was vexed with you at first, but am not so now. To watch the changes of your chameleon mind, not always successful in getting the right colour at the right moment, is just as good as a play. If you really mean to come again and again I shall not object—it will amuse me. Only do not come at two o'clock in the morning; it might compromise me, and, unconventional as I am, I should not forgive you a second time. But honestly, Mr. Chance, I don't believe you will come again. You know now that I know you, and you are too wise to waste your energies on me. I hope you will not give up visiting me—in the daytime. We admire each other, and I have always had a friendly feeling for you. That is a real feeling—not an artificial one like the love you spoke of.”