SCENE—­A Balcony outside the Musik-Saal of the Insel Hotel, Constance.  Miss PRENDERGAST is seated; CULCHARD is leaning against the railing close by.  It is about nine; the moon has risen, big and yellow, behind the mountains at the further end of the lake; small black boats are shooting in and out of her track upon the water; the beat of the steamers’ paddles is heard as they come into harbour.  CULCHARD has just proposed.

Miss Prendergast (after a silence).  I have always felt very strongly with RUSKIN, that no girl should have the cruelty to refuse a proposal—­

Culchard (with alacrity).  RUSKIN is always so right.  And—­er—­where there is such complete sympathy in tastes and ideas, as I venture to think exists in our own case, the cruelty would—­

[Illustration:  “It does seem rather rough on fellows, don’t you know.”]

Miss P. Pray allow me to finish!  “Refuse a proposal at once” is RUSKIN’s expression.  He also says (if my memory does not betray me), that “no lover should have the insolence to think of being accepted at once.”  You will find the passage somewhere in “Fors.”

Culch. (whose jaw has visibly fallen).  I cannot say I recall it at this moment.  Does he hold that a lover should expect to be accepted by—­er—­instalments, because, if so—­

Miss P. I think I can quote his exact words.  “If she simply doesn’t like him, she may send him away for seven years—­”

Culch. (stiffly).  No doubt that course is open to her.  But why seven, and where is he expected to go?

Miss P. (continuing calmly).  “He vowing to live on cresses and wear sackcloth meanwhile, or the like penance.”

Culch. I feel bound to state at once that, in my own case, my position at Somerset House would render anything of that sort utterly impracticable.

Miss P. Wait, please,—­you are so impetuous.  “If she likes him a little,”—­(CULCHARD’s brow relaxes)—­“or thinks she might come to like him in time, she may let him stay near her,”—­(CULCHARD makes a movement of relief and gratitude)—­“putting him always on sharp trial, and requiring, figuratively, as many lion-skins or giants’ heads as she thinks herself worth.”

Culch. (grimly).  “Figuratively” is a distinct concession on RUSKIN’s part.  Still, I should be glad to know—­

Miss P. If you will have a little more patience, I will make myself clear.  I have always determined that when the—­ah—­occasion presented itself, I would deal with it on Ruskinian principles.  I propose in your case—­presuming of course that you are willing to be under vow for me—­to adopt a middle course.

Culch. You are extremely good.  And what precise form of—­er—­penance did you think of?

Miss P. The trial I impose is, that you leave Constance to-morrow—­with Mr. PODBURY.