“It wasn’t reasonable that you should like a stranger right off,” he went on, “just at first, and I waited till you got to know me better.  Ways are different here and over there, I know that, but if you came to know me, Miss Mavick, you would see that I am not such a bad sort of a fellow.”  And a deprecatory smile lighted up his face that was almost pathetic.  To Evelyn this humility seemed genuine, and perhaps it was, for the moment.  Certainly the eyes she bent on, the odd little figure were less severe.

“All this is painful to me, Lord Montague.”

“I’m sorry,” he continued, in the same tone.  “I cannot help it.  I must say it.  I—­you must know that I love you.”  And then, not heeding the nervous start the girl gave in stepping backward, “And—­and, will you be my wife?”

“You do me too much honor, Lord Montague,” said Evelyn, summoning up all her courage.

“No, no, not a bit of it.”

“I am obliged to you for your good opinion, but you know I am almost a school-girl.  My governess has just left me.  I have never thought of such a thing.  And, Lord Montague, I cannot return your feeling.  That is all.  You must see how painful this is to me.”

“I wouldn’t give you pain, Miss Mavick, not for the world.  Perhaps when you think it over it will seem different to you.  I am sure it will.  Don’t answer now, for good.”

“No, no, it cannot be,” said Evelyn, with something of alarm in her tone, for the full meaning of it all came over her as she thought of her mother.

“You are not offended?”

“No,” said Evelyn.

“I couldn’t bear to offend you.  You cannot think I would.  And you will not be hard-hearted.  You know me, Miss Mavick, just where I am.  I’m just as I said.”

“The carriage is coming,” said Mrs. Mavick, who returned at this moment.

The group for an instant was silent, and then Evelyn said: 

“We have waited so long; mamma, that I am a little tired, and you will excuse me from the drive this afternoon?”

“Certainly, my dear.”

When the two were seated in the carriage, Mrs. Mavick turned to Lord Montague: 

“Well?”

“No go,” replied my lord, as sententiously, and in evident bad humor.

“What?  And you made a direct proposal?”

“Showed her my whole hand.  Made a square offer.  Damme, I am not used to this sort of thing.”

“You don’t mean that she refused you?”

“Don’t know what you call it.  Wouldn’t start.”

“She couldn’t have understood you.  What did she say?”

“Said it was too much honor, and that rot.  By Jove, she didn’t look it.  I rather liked her pluck.  She didn’t flinch.”

“Oh, is that all?” And Mrs. Mavick spoke as if her mind were relieved.  “What could you expect from such a sudden proposal to a young girl, almost a child, wholly unused to the world?  I should have done the same thing at her age.  It will look different to her when she reflects, and understands what the position is that is offered her.  Leave that to me.”