“Take care of—­me!” she exclaimed.  “Of—­whatever are you talking about, Mr. Allerdyke?”

“It’s like this,” replied Allerdyke, involuntarily squaring himself in his chair.  “You see me?—­I’m as healthy a man as ever lived!—­forty, but no more than five-and-twenty in health and spirits.  I’ve plenty of brains and a rare good temper.  I’m owner of one of the best businesses in Yorkshire—­I’m worth a good ten thousand a year.  I’ve one of the best houses in our parts—­I’m going to take another, a country house, if you’re minded.  I’ll guarantee to make the best husband—­”

Miss Lennard dropped back on her sofa and screamed.

“Good heavens, man?” she exclaimed.  “Are you—­are you really asking me to—­to marry you?”

“That’s it,” replied Allerdyke, nodding.  “You’ve hit it.  Queer way, maybe—­but it’s my way.  See?”

“I never heard of—­of such a way in all my life!” said the lady.  “You’re—­extraordinary!”

“I am,” said Allerdyke.  “Yes—­we are out of the ordinary in our part of the world—­we know it.  Well,” he went on after a moment’s silence, during which they looked at each other, “you’ve heard what I have to say.  How is it to be?”

The prima donna continued to gaze intently on this strange wooer for a full minute.  Then she suddenly stretched out her hand.

“I’ll marry you!” she said quietly.

Allerdyke gave the hand a firm pressure, and stood up, unconsciously pulling himself to his full height.

“Thank you,” he said.  “You shan’t regret it.  And now, then—­a pen, if you please.  Sign that.”

He handed his betrothed a paper, watched her sign it, and then, picking up the pen as she laid it down, took a cheque-book from his pocket and quickly wrote a cheque.  This he placed in an envelope taken from the writing-table.  Envelope and receipt in hand, he turned to the door.

“Business first,” he said, smiling over his shoulder.  “I’ll send Chettle off—­then we’ll talk about ourselves.”

He went away to Chettle and put the paper and the envelope in his hand.

“That’s the receipt,” he said.  “T’other’s a bit of a present for you—­naught to do with the reward—­a trifle from me.  Ah!—­you might like to know that I’ve just got engaged to be married!”

Chettle glanced round and inclined his head towards the room from which Allerdyke had just emerged.

“What!—­to the lady!” he exclaimed.  “Deary me.  Well,” he went on, grasping the successful suitor’s hand, and giving it a warm and sympathetic squeeze, “there’s one thing I can say, Mr. Allerdyke—­you’ll make an uncommon good-looking pair!”