uppose
I'd say No?"

Then Roy knew he was beaten. Also he knew she was right and that he had
been an impulsive fool--depressing convictions both. For a moment he
stood nonplussed while Tara fingered a long chain he had given her, and
absently studied a daisy-plant that had dared to invade the oldest,
loveliest lawn in that part of the country.

But Roy was little used to being thwarted--by home elements, at least:
and when an idea seized him he could be pertinacious, even to the point
of folly. He was determined Tara should come with him. And Tara wanted
to come. Add her permanent dearness and her newly-found loveliness, and
there sprang from the conjunction a second inspiration, even bolder than
the first.

"Tara--dear," he ventured, in a changed tone that halted between
tenderness and appeal. "I'm going to say--something tremendous."

She deserted the daisy and faced him, blue eyes wide; her tell-tale
lower lip drawn in.

"Would it be--quite so 'crazily--utterly'--if ... well, if we were
engaged?"

The tremendous word was out; and the effect on her was unmistakable.
Colour stirred visibly in her face. She straightened herself with an air
that seemed physically to increase the distance between them.

"Really, Roy--have you _quite_ lost your senses to-day?"

He looked--and felt--crestfallen. "But, Tara," he urged, "it's such a
supreme idea. Wouldn't you--think of it, ever? We'd fit like a pair of
gloves. Mummy would love it--extravagantly. And we've been kind
of--caring all these years. At least"--sudden doubt assailed him--"I
suppose you _do_ care still--a little bit?"

"Silly boy! Of course I--care ... a lot."

That was more like the Tara he knew. "Very well. _Why_ accuse me of
incipient lunacy? I care, too. Always have done. Think how topping it
would be, you and I together, exploring all the wonderland of our Game
and Mummy's tales--Udaipur, Amber, Chitor, perhaps the shrine of the
real Tara----"

Still demurely distant, she thought "how topping it would be"; and the
thought kept her silent so long that he grew impatient.

"High Tower Princess--do give over. Your grown-up airs are awfully
sweet--but not to the point. You are coming? It'll spoil everything now,
if you don't."

She shook her head with a small wise smile that seemed to push him away
from her, gently yet inexorably; to make him feel little more than a
schoolboy confronted by a woman; very young in her new shyness and
dignity, but still