The Sahib was a good man, and a simple-hearted, but he knew his own value, and it would have been strange if Mona's reply had not surprised him. In fact he could only account for it on one supposition, and that supposition made him very angry and indignant. His next words were natural, if unpardonable. Perhaps Mona's frankness was spoiling him. "Tell me," he said sharply, "in the old Norway days, when we saw so much of each other, was there some one else then?" Mona drew herself up. "I do call that an insult," she said quietly. "Do you suppose that every unmarried woman is standing in the market-place waiting for a husband? Is it impossible that a woman may prefer to remain unmarried for the sake of all the work in the world that only an unmarried woman can do?" The Sahib's face brightened visibly for a moment. Perhaps it was true, after all, that this clever woman was more of a child in some respects than half the flimsy damsels in the ball-room. "Miss Maclean," he said, "bear with my dulness, and say to me these five words, 'There is no one else.'" Mona lifted her honest eyes. "There is no one else," she said simply. "Thank you. Then if my sole rival is the work that only an unmarried woman can do, I decline to accept your answer." "Don't be foolish, Mr Dickinson," said Mona gently. "You call me honest, and in this respect I am absolutely honest. If there were the faintest shadow of a doubt in my mind I would tell you. There are very few people in the world whom I like and trust as I do you, but I would as soon think of marrying Sir Douglas Munro. And you--you are sacrificing yourself to your own chivalry. You want to marry me because you are sorry for me, because I have muddled my own life." "That is not true. My one objection to you is that you are twice the man that I am." Mona laughed. "_Eh bien! L'un n'empêche pas l'autre_. No, no; you are much too good a man to be thrown away on a woman who only likes and trusts you." "When do you leave this place?" he asked doggedly. "In March." "And do you stop in Edinburgh on the way?" "Yes; I have promised to spend a week with the Colquhouns." "Good. I will ask you then again." "Dear Sahib," said Mona earnestly, "I have not spoilt your life yet. Don't let me begin to spoil it now. You cannot afford to waste even three months over a chivalrous fancy. Put me out of your mind altogether, till you have married a bright young thing full of enthusiasms, not a worn-out old cynic like me. Then by-and-by, if she will let me be her sister, you and I can be brother and sister again." "May I write to you during the next two months?" "I think it would be a great mistake." "Your will shall be law. But remember, I shall be thinking of you constantly, and when you are in Edinburgh I will come. Shall we go back to the ball-room?" He rose and offered her his arm. "Mr Dickinson, I absolutely refuse to leave the question open. What is the use?"