to his, with a little
persuasive pressure. "You see, everything about it is so far distant;
and perhaps--who knows?--it may never come to anything."

"What do you mean by that?" demands he, passionately, drawing her to
him, and bending to examine her face in the uncertain light. "Do you
suppose I am a boy or a fool, that you so speak to me? Am I so very
happy that you deem it necessary to blast my joy like this? or is it
merely to try me? Tell me the truth now, at once: do you mean to throw
me over?"

"I do not," with surprise. "What has put such an idea into your head?
If I did, why be engaged to you at any time? It is a great deal more
likely, when you come to know me better, that you will throw me over."

"Don't build your hopes on that," says Luttrell, grimly, with a rather
sad smile. "I am not the sort of fellow likely to commit suicide; and
to resign you would be to resign life."

"Well," says Molly, "if I am ever to say anything on the subject I may
as well say it now; and I must confess I think you are behaving very
foolishly. I may be--I probably am--good to look at; but what is the
use of that? You, who have seen so much of the world, have, of course,
known people ten times prettier than I am, and--perhaps--fonder of you.
And still you come all the way down here to this stupid place to fall
in love with me, a girl without a penny! I really think," winds up
Molly, growing positively melancholy over his lack of sense, "it is the
most absurd thing I ever heard in my life."

"I wish I could argue with your admirable indifference," says he,
bitterly.

"If I was indifferent I would not argue," says Molly, offended. "I
would not trouble myself to utter a word of warning. You ought to be
immensely obliged to me instead of sneering and wrinkling up all your
forehead into one big frown. Are you going to be angry again? I do
hope," says Molly, anxiously, "you are not naturally ill-tempered,
because, if so, on no account would I have anything to do with you."

"I am not," replies he, compelled to laughter by her perturbed face.
"Reassure yourself. I seldom forget myself in this way. And you?"

"Oh, I have a fearful temper," says Molly, with a charming smile; "that
is why I want to make sure of yours. Because two tyrants in one house
would infallibly bring the roof about their ears. Now, Mr. Luttrell,
that I have made this confession, will you still tell me you are not
frightened?"

"Nothing frightens me," whisp