sitting there
looking that miserable it was enough to make one's heart ache."

With this satisfactory intelligence he sent Gladys into the garden.

She was all blushes and shyness. Her hair had gone back into the long
plait, and she wore her schoolgirl dress again.

"You're too proud, Gladys!" he said reproachfully. "Why did you never
tell me of your engagement?"

"Why, I didn't ardly count it to interest you, Mr. Vaughan. Besides,
it's not to be for two years."

"Are you in love with him?"

"Why, what a question! I _like_ him. He's a nice boy."

"I suppose he's very much in love with you?"

"Oh, he's all right."

"That was a very cruel letter you wrote me, Gladys."

"I was afraid you'd think it rude," she answered apologetically.

"No, dear. It isn't rude to refuse a proposal. You can't accept them
all, can you?"

"You've made a wretched tea, Mr. Vaughan. Is there anything else you'd
like?"

"Yes, I want to go in the field again, like the day before yesterday."

"Was it only the day before yesterday? So it was. A lot seems to ave
appened since. Well, come along."

She looked such an absolute child as she climbed the gate that Gillie
felt almost ashamed of his proposal, and thought that probably her
father was quite right.... But her face was so exactly like Sir Joshua
Reynolds' angels' heads, she might have sat for them. She was too
absurdly pretty. And sweet, too, he thought. She had no vulgar
pretensions, she was simple. She only wanted a little polish. He could
teach her everything necessary. No task could have been more
congenial....

"So you think I'm too old for you. Is that it?"

"No, it isn't. It isn't that. It's what father told you."

"Would you hate to go for a long journey with me, to see other places,
other countries?"

"Oh no; I'd like it. We went to Clacton last summer. It _was_ fun."

He thought a little.

"Gladys, as you're so young, won't you leave the whole thing in abeyance
for a time?"

"In what, did you say?"

"Undecided. Let me come and talk to you about it in six months. The only
thing I can't bear you to do is to be a manicure. I'm going to speak to
your mother about it. I can't stand it."

"Oh, why, Mr. Vaughan? I should have thought it was nice for me to sort
of better myself."

"Nonsense. Far better stay here. Well, will you agree to that?"

"To give up the manicuring and to leave the engagement open like? Is
that what you mean?"

"That's the idea."

Sh