“I don’t think I will tell you.  He asked me was there anybody else; and of course I said ‘No.’”

“Oh!”

“Oh, that is nothing; I had not time to make up my mind to tell the truth.  I was taken by surprise; and you know one’s first impulse is to fib—­about that.”

“But did you really deceive him?”

“No, I blushed; and he caught me; so he said, ‘Come, now, there was.’”

“And you said, ‘Yes, there is,’ like a brave girl as you are.”

“What, plump like that?  No, I was frightened out of my wits, like a brave girl as I am not, and said I should never marry any one he could disapprove; and then—­oh, then I believe I began to cry.  Christopher, I’ll tell you something; I find people leave off teasing you when you cry—­gentlemen, I mean.  Ladies go on all the more.  So then dear papa kissed me, and told me I must not be imprudent, and throw myself away, that was all; and I promised him I never would.  I said he would be sure to approve my choice; and he said he hoped so.  And so he will.”

Dr. Staines looked thoughtful, and said he hoped so too.  “But now it comes to the point of asking him for such a treasure, I feel my deficiencies.”

“Why, what deficiencies?  You are young, and handsome, and good, and ever so much cleverer than other people.  You have only to ask for me, and insist on having me.  Come, dear, go and get it over.”  She added, mighty coolly, “There is nothing so dreadful as suspense.”

“I’ll go this minute,” said he, and took a step towards the door; but he turned, and in a moment was at her knees.  He took both her hands in his, and pressed them to his beating bosom, while his beautiful eyes poured love into hers point-blank.  “May I tell him you love me?  Oh, I know you cannot love me as I love you; but I may say you love me a little, may I not?—­that will go farther with him than anything else.  May I, Rosa, may I?—­a little?”

His passion mastered her.  She dropped her head sweetly on his shoulder, and murmured, “You know you may, my own.  Who would not love you?”

He parted lingeringly from her, then marched away, bold with love and hope, to demand her hand in marriage.

Rosa leaned back in her chair, and quivered a little with new emotions.  Christopher was right; she was not capable of loving like him; but still the actual contact of so strong a passion made her woman’s nature vibrate.  A dewy tear hung on the fringes of her long lashes, and she leaned back in her chair and fluttered awhile.

That emotion, almost new to her, soon yielded, in her girlish mind, to a complacent languor; and that, in its turn, to a soft reverie.  So she was going to be married!  To be mistress of a house; settle in London (that she had quite determined long ago); be able to go out into the streets all alone, to shop, or visit; have a gentleman all her own, whom she could put her finger on any moment and make him