'Because I plucked up heart of grace to say "Yes." Do you think that Colonel Sutton is a sort of man who needs any one to help his wooing?' 'I do,' said Desvoeux, with provoking persistency, 'and Mrs. Vernon gave him every assistance. I only wish she would have done half as much for me.' 'Well, then,' cried Maud in a passion, 'if you must know, it was I that proposed to him--not he to me; and I adore the tip of his little finger more than all the other men and women in the world. Now do you think they teased me into it?' 'No; but if you begin with so much enthusiasm you will come to dislike him very much before long. His little finger indeed! And here am I left out in the cold! What am I to do?' 'Write and consult Mrs. Vereker,' said Maud. From which unfeeling remark it may be inferred that she believed less in Desvoeux's broken-heartedness than he was inclined to do himself. 'Well,' said her companion, with a resigned air, which Maud felt had a touch of reproachful dignity in it, 'laugh at me as you will. I love you, and always shall.' 'Nonsense!' said Maud. 'Here comes my cousin. I have a great mind to tell her, and get her to comfort you.' The interview was over. Maud had stuck to her programme, which was to treat Desvoeux with an airy indifference and his protestations with ostentatious disbelief. Nevertheless his words were not without effect. Had she been less inexperienced Maud would have known that she had allowed him to leave off in a most dangerous position; that of an admirer whose homage was sufficiently congenial to be allowed a hearing; whom it was within her power to have at any moment at her feet, and who, whether rightly or wrongly, felt he had some show of right to be aggrieved and disappointed at her declared preference for another man. There was another person, however, besides Desvoeux to whom the news of Maud's engagement gave a serious shock. One of Sutton's first acts, after Maud and he had mutually ascertained each other's views, was to scribble a line to Boldero, announcing the joyful event; and he had done so, too full of his own happiness to pay much attention, even had he known more than he did, to the view his friend might take of it. All that he knew was that Boldero, like all the world, was a great admirer of his future wife. This was but natural, and Sutton without the least misgiving accepted the position. 'My dear old boy,' he wrote, 'you will, I know, be pleased to hear a good piece of news of me, to make up for my bad luck the other day. Come over as soon as you can and wish me joy. Meanwhile, remember, of course, that you must be my groomsman.'