"Because I've been low and mean. Now I want you to do something for Mrs. don't want you to sympathise with me at all. When I ask for your sympathy, it's a sign that I don't deserve it."
"Is that so?"
"Oh, be serious with me. I mean it. And I want to beg your pardon for something."
"Yes; what's that?"
"Can't you guess?"
"No."
"You needn't have your lapels silk-lined. You needn't wear boutonnières."
"Oh, but I've had the coat changed."
"No matter! Change it back! It isn't for me to make you over. I must make myself over. It's my right, it's my sacred privilege to conform to you in every way, and I humble myself in the dust for having forgotten it at the very start. Oh, do you think I can ever be worthy of you? I will try; indeed I will! I shall not wear my light dresses another time! From this out, I shall dress more in keeping with you. I boasted that I should live to comfort and console you, to recompense you for the past, and what have I been doing? Wearying and degrading you!"
"Oh no," pleaded Colville. "I am very comfortable. I don't need any compensation for the past. I need—sleep. I'm going to bed tonight at eight o'clock, and I am going to sleep twenty-four hours. Then I shall be fresh for Mrs. Fleming's ball."