My dear fellow!" I exclaimed.

"Quite funny, isn't it?" he laughed, but rather harshly, while his
mountain bronze deepened under my scrutiny.

"You are not in earnest, Bob!" said I; and on the word his laughter
ended, his colour went.

"_I_ am," he answered through his teeth. "_Are you_?"

Never was war carried more suddenly into the enemy's country, or that
enemy's breath more completely taken away than mine. What could I say?
"As much as you are, I should hope!" was what I ultimately said.

The lad stood raking me with a steady fire from his blue eyes.

"I mean to marry her," he said, "if she will have me."

There was no laughing at him. Though barely twenty, as I knew, he was
man enough for any age as we faced each other in my room, and a man who
knew his own mind into the bargain.

"But, my dear Bob," I ventured to remonstrate, "you are years too
young--"

"That's my business. I am in earnest. What about you?"

I breathed again.

"My good fellow," said I, "you are at perfect liberty to give yourself
away to me, but you really mustn't expect me to do quite the same for
you."

"I expect precious little, I can tell you!" the lad rejoined hotly.
"Not that it matters twopence so long as you are not misled by anything
I said the other day. I prefer to run straight with you--you can run as
you like with me. I only didn't want you to think that I was saying one
thing and doing another. As a matter of fact I meant all I said at the
time, or thought I did, until you came along and made me look into
myself rather more closely than I had done before. I won't say how you
managed it. You will probably see for yourself. But I'm very much
obliged to you, whatever happens. And now that we understand each other
there's no more to be said, and I'll clear out."

There was, indeed, no more to be said, and I made no attempt to detain
him; for I did see for myself, only too clearly and precisely, how I had
managed to precipitate the very thing which I had come out from England
expressly to prevent.

CHAPTER VIII

PRAYERS AND PARABLES

I had quite forgotten one element which plays its part in most affairs
of the affections. I mean, of course, the element of pique. Bob Evers,
with the field to himself, had been sensible and safe enough; it was my
intrusion, and nothing else, which had fanned his boyish flame into this
premature conflagration. Of that I felt convinced. But Bob would not
believe me if I told him s