I talked nicely at dinner. I was dignified and grave, and quite frank. Mr. Carruthers was not bored. The chef had outdone himself, hoping to be kept on. I never felt so excited in my life. I was apparently asleep under a big lamp, after dinner, in the library, a book of silly poetry in my lap, when the door opened and he--Mr. Carruthers--came in alone, and walked up the room. I did not open my eyes. He looked for just a minute--how accurate I am! Then he said, "You are very pretty when asleep!" His voice was not caressing or complimentary--merely as if the fact had forced this utterance. I allowed myself to wake without a start. "Was the '47 port as good as you hoped?" I asked, sympathetically. He sat down. I had arranged my chair so that there was none other in its immediate neighborhood. Thus he was some way off, and could realize my whole silhouette. "The '47 port? Oh yes; but I am not going to talk of port. I want you to tell me a lot more about yourself, and your plans----" "I have no plans--except to see the world." He picked up a book and put it down again; he was not perfectly calm. "I don't think I shall let you. I am more than ever convinced you ought to have some one to take care of you--you are not of the type that makes it altogether safe to roam about alone." "Oh! as for my type," I said, languidly, "I know all about that. Mrs. Carruthers said no one with this combination of color could be good, so I am not going to try. It will be quite simple." He rose quickly from his chair and stood in front of the great log fire, such a comical expression on his face. "You are the quaintest child I have ever met," he said. "I am not a child, and I mean to know everything I can." He went over towards the sofa again and arranged the cushions--great, splendid, fat pillows of old Italian brocade, stiff with gold and silver. "Come!" he pleaded. "Sit here beside me, and let us talk; you are miles away there, and I want to--make you see reason." I rose at once and came slowly to where he pointed. I settled myself deliberately. There was one cushion of purple and silver right under the light, and there I rested my head. "Now talk!" I said, and half closed my eyes. Oh, I was enjoying myself! The first time I have ever been alone with a real man! They--the old ambassadors and politicians and generals--used always to tell me I should grow into an attractive woman--now I meant to try what I could do. Mr. Carruthers remained silent, but he sat down beside me, and looked and looked right into my eyes. "Now talk, then," I said again. "Do you know, you are a very disturbing person," he said, at last, by way of a beginning. "What is that?" I asked. "It is a woman who confuses one's thoughts when one looks at her. I do not now seem to have anything to say, or too much----" "You called me a child." "I should have called you an enigma."