He crossed the room gently and took a seat by her side. Miss Rose, still gazing at the floor, wondered indignantly why it was she was not blushing. His Lordship's conversation had come to a sudden stop and the silence was most awkward.
“I've been a fool, Miss Rose,” he said at last, rising and standing over her; “and I've been taking a great liberty. I've been deceiving you for nearly a fortnight.”
“Nonsense!” responded Miss Rose, briskly.
“I have been deceiving you,” he repeated. “I have made you believe that I am a person of title.”
“Nonsense!” said Miss Rose again.
The other started and eyed her uneasily.
“Nobody would mistake you for a lord,” said Miss Rose, cruelly. “Why, I shouldn't think that you had ever seen one. You didn't do it at all properly. Why, your uncle Cray would have done it better.”
Mr. Cray's nephew fell back in consternation and eyed her dumbly as she laughed. All mirth is not contagious, and he was easily able to refrain from joining in this.
“I can't understand,” said Miss Rose as she wiped a tear-dimmed eye—“I can't understand how you could have thought I should be so stupid.”
“I've been a fool,” said the other, bitterly, as he retreated to the door. “Good-by.”