Then he knitted his brows and rubbed his head. His serpentine faculty was in abeyance--these involuntaries of his had to cease in order that he might once in his life attempt to think. As for Miss Jane, she was mistaken in imagining that he had the least notion of making love to her. He valued her only as a friend, and had splashed into the quicksand of a proposal of marriage without knowing it. She thought, however, that he only needed a touch to make him bury himself, like a flounder, head over ears in a declaration of love and an offer of his hand and heart; so she gave him that touch softly and sweetly. 'You said,' quoth she, 'with the utmost disdain, that you would as soon think of marrying me as my insolent niece.' 'I did, I did. Can you help me to contradict it emphatically?' 'I'm afraid not--dear Mr. Dempster.' 'Eh?' said he. 'Thank you.' He felt dimly that there was something in the air--dimly, as protoplasm may feel its existence. 'Ah!' he cried. 'Here's a kind of notion. I wonder if it's an idea. Would it do to say, in order to make you forget, just the opposite of what I said? You see--you understand--something like this, meaning--of course, you know what I mean--nothing more, you know--eh--ah!--suppose I say, "I would far rather marry you than Muriel." Is that--emphatic enough?' Miss Jane bent forward, and put her head on his left shoulder, and her hand on his right. 'Mr. Dempster!' she said. 'Alec!' she sighed. 'Eh?--eh--ah!'--and he had to hold her--to clutch her, to save himself from falling. 'I'm the happiest woman in the world.' 'I'm--I'm very glad of it.' 'I never loved anybody before,' she said, so sweetly that Dempster wondered. Then she buried her face in his neck, she did, the stupid, soft-hearted creature, and whispered, 'Oh, the torture of wooing you for Muriel! But now I have my reward!' And she did think this as she said it, although it had never occurred to her before. 'Yes,' said Dempster, feeling that the pause must be filled up somehow. 'Of course,' he added, making a half-hearted attempt to force her back into her chair, which she mistook for a caress, 'I only suggested the contradiction. I did not----' But her eyes were shut, and her brain too. 'I adore your modesty,' she whispered. 'Trust me, trust me. I will love you till death.' 'I'm completely stumped,' exclaimed Dempster. 'Poor dear!' said Miss Jane, mistaking. And, indeed it was pardonable, Dempster's metaphors being usually marked by a _curiosa infelicitas_. Here the door opened briskly and Mrs. Cherry, the housekeeper, burst into the room. 'Losh me! Miss Chartres!' she cried, as the pair scrambled to their feet. 'Mrs. Cherry,' said Miss Jane, with great presence of mind, in spite of a distinct tremor in her voice, 'since you have seen, I may as well tell you. Mr. Dempster is going to marry me. But why did you come in without knocking, and what do you want?'