This appeared to add new fuel to the flame.
“You come and tell a girl—all but in words tell her—she was dying for love of you when you were engaged to another girl; dying to hear from you; dying to have you propose to her! And when she’s mildly indignant you use some profane expression, just as if you had stated the most ordinary facts in the world! I am infinitely obliged for your compassion, Mr. Lane.”
“I meant nothing of the sort. I only meant that considering what had passed between us—”
“Passed between us?”
“Well, yes at Millstead, you know.”
“Are you going to tell me I said anything then, when I knew you were engaged to Kate? I suppose you will stop short of that?”
Eugene wisely abandoned this line of argument. After all, most of the talking had been on his side.
“Why will you quarrel, Claudia? I came here in as humble a frame of mind as ever man came in.”
“Your humility, Mr. Lane, is a peculiar quality.”
“Won’t you listen to me?”
“Have I refused to listen? But no, I don’t want to listen now. You have made me too angry.”
“Oh, but do listen just a little—”
Claudia suddenly changed her tone—indeed, her whole demeanor.
“Not to-day,” she said beseechingly; “really, not to-day. I won’t tell you why; but not to-day.”
“No time like the present,” suggested Eugene.
“Do you know there is something you don’t allow for in women?”
“So it seems. What is that?”
“Just a little pride. No, I will not listen to you!” she added with an imperious little stamp of her foot, and a relapse into hostility.
“May I come again?”
“I don’t know.”
Eugene was not a patient man. He allowed himself a shrug of the shoulders.
“Are you about to congratulate me on having ‘bagged’ another?”
“You’re entirely hopeless to-day, and entirely charming!” he said. “If any girl but you had treated me like this, I’d never come near her again.”
Claudia looked daggers.
“Pray don’t make me an exception to your usual rule.”
“As it is, I shall go away now and come back presently. You may then at least listen to me. That’s all I’ve asked you to do so far.”
“I am bound to do that. I will some day. But do go now.”
“I will directly; but I want to speak to you about something else.”
“Anything else in the world! And on any other subject I will be—charming—to you. Sit down. What is it?”
“It’s about Stafford.”
“Your friend Father Stafford? What about him?”
“He’s coming down here.”
“Oh, how nice! It will be a pleasant ref—resource.”
Eugene smiled.
“Don’t mind saying what you mean—or even what you don’t mean; that generally gives people greater pleasure.”
“You’re making me angry again.”