“I shall be engaged during the entire day, Mr. Lorry,” she said, slowly, looking him fairly in the eyes with cruel positiveness.  Those eyes of his were wide with surprise and the glowing gleam of injured pride.  His lips closed tightly; little red spots flew to his cheeks and then disappeared, leaving his face white and cold; his heart throbbed painfully with the mingled emotions of shame and anger.  For a moment he dared not speak.

“I have reason to feel thankful that you are to be engaged,” he said at last, calmly, without taking his eyes from hers.  “I am forced to believe, much to my regret, that I have offended when I intended to please.  You will pardon my temerity.”

There was no mistaking the resentment in his voice or the glitter in his eyes.  Impulsively her little hand was stretched forth, falling upon his arm, while into her eyes came again the soft glow and to her lips the most pathetic, appealing smile, the forerunner of a pretty plea for forgiveness.  The change startled and puzzled him more than ever.  In one moment she was unreasonably rude and imperious, in the next gracious and imploring.

“Forgive me,” she cried, the blue eyes battling bravely against the steel in the grey ones above.  “I was so uncivil!  Perhaps I cannot make you understand why I spoke as I did, but, let me say, I richly deserved the rebuke.  Pray forgive me and forget that I have been disagreeable.  Do not ask me to tell you why I was so rude to you just now, but overlook my unkind treatment of your invitation.  Please, Mr. Lorry, I beg of you—­I beg for the first time in my life.  You have been so good to me; be good to me still.”

His wrath melted away like snow before the sunshine.  How could he resist such an appeal?  “I beg for the first time in my life,” whirled in his brain.  What did she mean by that?

“I absolve the penitent,” he said, gravely.

“I thank you.  You are still my ideal American—­courteous, bold and gentle.  I do not wonder that Americans can be masterful men.  And now I thank you for your invitation, and ask you to let me withdraw my implied refusal.  If you will take me for the drive, I shall be delighted and more than grateful.”

“You make me happy again,” he said, softly, as they drew near the elder members of the party, who had paused to wait for them.  “I shall ask your uncle and aunt to accompany us.”

“Uncle Caspar will be busy all day, but I am sure my aunt will be charmed.  Aunt Yvonne, Mr. Lorry has asked us to drive with him over the city, and I have accepted for you.  When are we to start, Mr. Lorry?”

Mr. and Mrs. Guggenslocker stared in a bewildered sort of manner at their niece.  Then Aunt Yvonne turned questioning eyes toward her husband, who promptly bowed low before the tall American and said: 

“Your kind offices shall never be forgotten, sir.  When are the ladies to be ready?”