r your eyes."

"What do you mean?" I asked, really puzzled by his allegories.

"Why, be engaged to me on the instalment plan. Stop payment whenever you
want to. Agreement to be drawn up that way. All these weeks you've been
trying, according to promise, haven't you, to like me enough to be
engaged? Now, instead, try _being_ engaged, and see whether you can like
me enough to strike a fast bargain by and by. You might come along to
Belgium with mater and Milly and me--they're dying to have you. Milly
wants to bore you talking about her Russian--and we'll see such a lot of
each other, travelling, that you'll know your own mind by the time my
leave's up. Think, if I could take you back to God's own country with me
as my--no, I won't say the word. I see it shocks you."

"It does," I said. "And even if I did what you ask, which would be nice
for me, but not fair to you, nothing would induce me to--to----"

"Marry?"

"Yes, so soon. I'm too--young. Unless I loved you perfectly. Then I'd
marry you if I were _eight_ instead of eighteen."

"I wouldn't marry you! Must draw the line somewhere. But if you really
think it would be nice, why not do it? I think it's fair, and I'm the
judge. Say yes, quick, before that darned orchestra stops again. You
shan't be married till you like, even if I have to wait as long as Jacob
did for Rachel. Not that I know how long that was. Say yes----"

"Yes, then!" I shouted over an appalling blast of instruments. And Tony
squeezed my hand.

That is how I happened to start for Belgium with Mrs. Dalziel and Milly,
the day after Father's quiet wedding with Kitty Main, and the day before
Austria delivered her ultimatum to Servia.

CHAPTER XVII

Not being politicians or war prophets, but only tourists, we didn't
realize what a flame would sweep over Europe on the winds of fury from
this one far-off fiery spark. Tony read us out the news at breakfast in
a hotel at Bruges: "Austria's Ultimatum to Servia"; whereupon we went on
drinking our coffee and eating our crisp rolls as if nothing had
happened.

"Dear me, what a pity!" sighed Mrs. Dalziel absently. She was thinking
of our sight-seeing expedition for which we were already late. Milly
remarked that somebody was always throwing an ultimatum at somebody
else's head, and asked for jam. Tony said intelligently that it was just
what he had expected, after the murder of the archduke and the duchess,
and looked at his watch. As for me, it di