“I fancied, Alice--though it may have been only fancy--I fancied that YOUR mother was colder than usual in her manner this morning. I hope that the luxuries of this palatial mansion are powerless to corrupt your heart. I cannot lead you to a castle and place crowds of liveried servants at your beck and call; but I can make you mistress of an honorable English home, independent of the bounty of strangers. You can never be more than a lady, Alice.” “It is very good of you to lecture me, I am sure.” “You might be serious with me,” he said, rising in ill-humor, and walking a little way down the room. “I think the offer of a man’s hand ought to be received with respect.” “Oh! I did not quite understand. I thought we agreed that you are not to make me that offer every time we meet.” “It was equally understood that the subject was only deferred until I should be in a position to resume it without binding you to a long engagement. That time has come now; and I expect a favorable answer at last. I am entitled to one, considering how patiently I have waited for it.” “For my part, Wallace, I must say I do not think it wise for you to think of marrying with only three hundred and fifty pounds a year.” “With a house: remember that; and coals and gas! You are becoming very prudent, now that you live with Miss Whatshername here. I fear you no longer love me, Alice.” “I never said I loved you at any time.” “Pshaw! You never said so, perhaps; but you always gave me to understand that--” “I did nothing of the sort, Wallace; and I won’t have you say so.” “In short,” he retorted, bitterly, “you think you will pick up some swell here who will be a better bargain than I am.” “Wallace! How dare you?” “You hurt my feelings, Alice, and I speak out. I know how to behave myself quite as well as those who have the entree here; but when my entire happiness is at stake I do not stand on punctilio. Therefore, I insist on a straightforward answer to my fair, honorable proposal.” “Wallace,” said Alice, with dignity; “I will not be forced into giving an answer against my will. I regard you as a cousin.” “I do not wish to be regarded as a cousin. Have I ever regarded you as a cousin?” “And do you suppose, Wallace, that I should permit you to call me by my Christian name, and be as familiar as we have always been together, if you were not my cousin? If so, you must have a very strange opinion of me.” “I did not think that luxury could so corrupt--” “You said that before,” said Alice, pettishly. “Do not keep repeating the same thing over and over; you know it is one of your bad habits. Will you stay to lunch? Miss Carew told me to ask you.” “Indeed! Miss Carew is very kind. Please inform her that I am deeply honored, and that I feel quite disturbed at being unable to accept her patronage.” Alice poised her head disdainfully. “No doubt it amuses you to make yourself ridiculous,” she said; “but I must say I do not see any occasion for it.”