When Williams actually did ask her to marry him, Elsie’s head reeled with the sudden knowledge of having achieved her end. He had offered to take her for a walk one Sunday afternoon, and they were primly going across the Green Park. To Elsie’s secret astonishment, he had neither put his arm round her waist nor attempted to direct their steps towards a seat beneath one of the more distant trees. He simply walked beside her, with short little steps, every now and then jerking up his chin to pull at his tie, and saying very little. Then, suddenly, it came. “Elsie, perhaps you don’t know that I’ve been thinking a great deal about you lately.” He cleared his throat. “I--I’ve been glad to see that you’re a very good girl. Perhaps you’ve not noticed one or two little tests, as I may call them, that I’ve put you through. We lawyers learn to be very cautious in dealing with human nature, you know. And I’m free to admit that I thought very highly of you after--after thinking it over--for the attitude you took up over that little trip we were going to take together. Not, mind you, that you weren’t mistaken. I should never, never have asked you to do anything that wasn’t perfectly right and good. But your scruples, however unfounded, made a very favourable impression on me.” He stopped and cleared his throat again. Intuition warned Elsie to say nothing. “A young girl can’t be too particular, Elsie. But I don’t want to give up our plan--I want my little companion on holidays, as well as on work days. Elsie,” said Mr. Williams impressively, “I want you to become my little wife.” And as she remained speechless, taken aback in spite of all her previous machinations, he repeated: “My dear, loving little wife.” “Oh, Mr. Williams!” “Call me Horace.” Elsie very nearly giggled. She felt sure that it would be quite impossible ever to call Mr. Williams Horace. “Let’s sit down,” she suggested feebly. They found two little iron chairs, and Mr. Williams selected them regardless of their proximity to the public path. When they sat down, Elsie, really giddy, leant back, but Mr. Williams bent forward, not looking at her, and poking his stick, which was between his knees, into the grass at their feet. “Of course, there is a certain difference in our ages,” he said, speaking very carefully, “but I do not consider that that would offer any very insuperable objection to a--a happy married life. And I shall do my utmost to make you happy, Elsie. My house is sadly in want of a mistress, and I shall look to you to make it bright again. You will have a servant, of course, and I will make you an allowance for the housekeeping, and, of course, I need hardly say that my dear little wife will look to me for everything that concerns her own expenditure.” He glanced at her as though expecting her to be dazzled, as indeed she was.