She was disconcerted. "I? Oh, I think I said you didn't approve of
marrying except for love, Mr. Smart."
"Um!" said I. "Love on both sides is the better way to put it."
"Am I to infer that you may have experienced a one-sided leaning toward
matrimony?"
"So far as I know, I have been singularly unsupported, Mrs. Titus."
"You really ought to marry."
"Perhaps I may. Who knows?"
"Aline said you would make an excellent husband."
"By that she means a stupid one, I suppose. Excellent husbands are
invariably stupid. They always want to stay at home."
She appeared thoughtful. "And expect their wives to stay at home too."
"On the contrary, an excellent husband lets his wife go where she
likes--without him."
"I am afraid you do not understand matrimony, Mr. Smart," she said,
and changed the subject.
I am afraid that my mind wandered a little at this juncture, for I
missed fire on one or two direct questions. Mrs. Titus was annoyed;
it would not be just to her to say that she was offended. If she could
but have known that my thoughts were of the day and minute when I so
brutally caressed the Countess Tarnowsy, I fancy she would have changed
her good opinion of me. To tell the truth, I was wondering just how
the Countess would behave toward me, with the memory of that
unforgettable incident standing between us. I had been trying to
convince myself for a very long time that my fault was not as great
in her eyes as it was in mine.
Along about five o'clock, I went to my room. I daresay I was sulking.
A polite bell-boy tapped on my door at half-past six. He presented a
small envelope to me, thanked me three or four times, and, as an
afterthought, announced that there was to be an answer.
Whereupon I read the Countess's note with a magnificently unreadable
face. I cleared my throat, and (I think) squared my shoulders somewhat
as a soldier does when he is being commended for valour, and said:
"Present my compliments to the Countess, and say that Mr. Smart will
be down in five minutes."
The boy stared. "The--the what, sir?"
"The _what_?" I demanded.
"I mean the _who_, sir."
"The Countess. The lady who sent you up with this note."
"Wasn't no Countess sent me up hyer, boss. It was Miss Tarsney."
Somehow staggered, I managed to wave my hand comprehensively.
"Never mind. Just say that I'll be down in two minutes."
He grinned. "I reckon I'd better hustle, or you'll beat me down, boss."
* * * * *
CHAPTER XXI
SHE PROPOSES
She was still in her riding habit when I found her alone in the parlour
of the Titus suite.
I give you my word my heart almost stopped beating. I've never seen
any one so lovely as she was at that moment. _Never_, I repeat. Her
hair, blown by the kind November winds, strayed--but no! I cannot
begin to define the loveliness of her. There was a warm, rich glow in
her cheeks and a light in her eyes that actually bewildered me, and
more than that I am not competent to utter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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