“Do you remember when I first saw you? You came here with Lionel from Eton. And you were dreadfully shy.” “But we became great friends, didn’t we?” “How angry you used to get when I beat you at tennis.” “Oh, you never did--except when I let you.” “That’s what you always said, but I never believed it.” Wroxham laughed boyishly, feeling on a sudden absurdly happy. He saw that Winnie was yielding, and yet he hardly dared to think his good fortune true. “And do you remember how I used to punt you up and down the river in the holidays?” he said. “How frightened I was when you fell in!” “Oh, you fibber!” he cried, with a joyful smile. “You shrieked and roared with laughter!” Winnie, with a little laugh, turned to the sofa. Raising her eyelashes, she looked at Wroxham with the glance that she well knew set him all aflame. “I’m so tired,” she murmured. She sat down, and he, sitting beside her, took her hand. She made no effort to withdraw it. “What lovely days those were!” she said. “But we used to quarrel dreadfully, usen’t we?” “Only for the pleasure of making it up.” “Do you think so? You used to make me jealous by talking to other little girls.” “Oh, never!” he cried, shaking his head, firmly. “It was always you. You were so awfully flirtatious.” Winnie smiled and looked down at his hand. It held hers as though it would never again let it go. “I wonder when you first began to like me?” she asked. “I’ve never liked you. I’ve always loved you, passionately.” “Always? Even when I wore a pig-tail and square-toed boots?” “Always! And I always shall,” he cried, boldly putting his arm round her waist. She leaned against it as though it were a comforting support. “And I can’t live without you.” “Are you sure?” “You didn’t mean it when you said you couldn’t love me?” he murmured, vehemently. She looked straight into his eyes for a moment, smiling, and slightly bent towards him. “I don’t know,” she whispered. “My dearest!” Quickly, eagerly, he took her in his arms and kissed her lips. “Say you’ll marry me, Winnie?” “I’ll do anything to make you happy.” “Kiss me. I love you.” Blushing, she put her lips to his, and the soft pressure made him tremble with delight. He seized her hands and kissed them in passionate gratitude, repeatedly. For a while they sat in silence. Winnie, all confused, was trying to realize what she had done; but Wroxham was overwhelmed with joy. Then the Canon’s voice was heard on the stairs, singing to himself; and Winnie quickly tore herself from her lover. “_La donna è mobile_,” sang the Canon, coming in; “Tra-la-la-la-la Tra-la-la-la-la.” He started when he saw the young couple sitting self-consciously in opposite corners of the sofa. “Hulloa, I thought you must have gone! I was detained longer than I expected.” “May I tell him?” asked Wroxham. “Yes!” “Canon Spratte, I want to tell you that Winnie has just promised to be my wife.”