ngly.

"Oh, yes."

"Then you should know that your Chesterfieldian manners embarrass me,"
Elsa said impatiently as Millar bowed again before her. "I have selected
you to deliver a most impudent message to that crowd in there, because
you are so perfectly impolite."

"I am entirely at your disposal, mademoiselle."

"How can I be impudent, though, when you are so polite to me?" she cried
petulantly.

"Shall we end the conversation, then?"

"Oh, no, not yet," Elsa cried, embarrassed. Then she went on with
determination: "When you came in here you said I was the girl they were
going to throw into Karl's arms."

"I did."

"But you did not say that I am the girl who permits herself to be thrown
into Karl's arms. Am I right?"

"Yes."

"Please sit down," Elsa went on, recovering her self-poise, which the
baffling politeness of Millar had disturbed.

He declined the chair with a gesture, but she insisted.

"I feel much more commanding when I stand, and I want every advantage,"
she said. "I want to set you right, and it will be much easier when you
sit down and I stand."

Smiling, Millar sat down and looked up at her expectantly. Slightly
confused, she went on:

"I don't want people making fun of me before my face. I know everything.
Do I make myself clear? You were kind enough to mention the subject, and
I shall delegate to you the mission of explaining the true facts to
those dummies."

She grew quite vehement, and her cheeks flushed. Millar looked at her
admiringly as he said:

"Your confidence does me great honor."

"As a rule I don't take these people seriously," the girl hurried on. "I
have no more interest in them or their opinions than I have in last
week's newspapers. But I want them all to know that they have not fooled
me into marrying Karl. And you all want me to marry him--you all want to
throw me into his arms."

"Pardon me----" Millar interrupted, but she went on, unheeding.

"Don't you think I can see through your transparent schemes? But I'll
marry him just the same, if he'll have me. Do you understand? I'll marry
him."

"I do not think you will," Millar said quietly.

"I tell you I am going to be Karl's wife," Elsa cried with emphasis.

"Now that you have graced me with your confidence," Millar said, rising,
"I feel that I may be quite frank with you. This marriage cannot take
place."

He pointed to the chair he had vacated and smiled.

"Now, you sit down, because I am going to