at. It isn't 'Yes'----" He took
a step back, and all the light went out of his face.

Very quietly he said: "It's 'No'?"

I hate being "rushed." It seems to me everybody tries to rush me. I hate
having to give answers on the spur of the moment!

I said: "I don't know what it is! I haven't been thinking about what you
said!"

That seemed rather an ungracious thing to say to a man who had just
offered one the devotion of his whole life. So I added what was the
honest truth: "I haven't had time to think about it!"

A scowl came over Mr. Brace's fair face. He said in tones of real
indignation: "You're as pale as a little ghost this morning. You've been
working too hard. You've been running yourself off your feet for that
wretched little--for that mistress of yours!"

So true, in one way!

"It's got to stop," said Mr. Reginald Brace firmly. "I won't have you
slaving like this. I'm going to take you away out of it all. I'm going
to tell Miss Million so now."

"You can't," I said hastily.

"Why? Isn't she up?" (disgustedly).

"Y--yes, I think so. I mean yes, of course. Only just now she's out."

"When will she be in, Miss Lovelace?"

"I don't know in the very least," I said with perfect truth. "I haven't
the slightest idea." But I realised that I had better keep any further
details of my mistress's absence to myself.

"There you are, you see. She treats you abominably. A girl like you!"
declared the young bank manager wrathfully. "Works you to death, and
then goes off to enjoy herself, without even letting you know how long
you may expect to have to yourself! Shameful! But, look here, Miss
Lovelace, you must leave her. You must marry me. I tell you----"

And what he told me was just what he'd told me the night before, over
and over again, about his adoration, his presumption, his leaving
nothing in the world undone that could make me happy.... And so on, and
so forth. All the things a girl loves to hear. Or would love--provided
she weren't distracted, as I was, by having something else on her mind
the whole time!

I am afraid my answers were fearfully "absent."

Thus:

"No! Of course, I don't find you 'distasteful.' Why should I?" Then to
myself: "I wonder if Mr. Burke may ring me up again presently?"

And:

"No! Of course there isn't anybody else that I care for. I've never seen
anybody else!" And again, aside: "How would it be if I rang up every
hotel in Brighton, one after the other, until