Mr Judge took off his straw hat, twirled it nervously to and fro, and laid it down on the bench by his side. Claire, casting a quick glance, noticed that his hair was growing noticeably thin on the temples, and felt an additional sinking of spirits. "Claire!" cried the man desperately, "don't let us beat about the bush. I'm not used to this sort of thing--don't make it harder than you need! You _have_ noticed, haven't you? You know what I want to tell you?" Claire nodded dumbly. In the case of previous Belgian admirers affairs had been checked before they reached the extreme stage, and she found this, her first spoken proposal much less exciting than she had expected. As a friend pure and simple, she had thoroughly liked Mr Judge, and at the bottom of her heart there lived a lingering hope that perhaps if he loved her very much, and expressed his devotion in very eloquent words, her heart might soften in response. But so far he had not even mentioned love! She was silent for several minutes, and when she did speak it was to ask a side question. "Is mother willing to go to India?" She was looking at the man as she spoke, and the change which passed over his face, startled her by its intensity. His eyes shone, the rugged features were transfigured by a very radiance of joy. He looked young at that moment, young and handsome, and blissfully content. Claire stared at him in amazement, not unmingled with irritation. Even if mother _were_ willing, her own consent had still to be obtained. It was tactless to make so sure! Her own face looked decidedly sulky as she twitched round on her seat, and resumed her stolid staring into space. Again there was silence, till a hand stretched out to clasp her arm, and a voice spoke in deep appealing accents-- "Claire, dear child, you are young; you have never known loneliness or disappointment. We have! Happiness is fifty times more precious, when it comes to those who have suffered. You would not be cruel enough to damp our happiness! You _can_ do it, you know, if you persist in an attitude of coldness and disapproval. I don't say you can destroy it. Thank God! it goes too deep for anyone to be able to do that. But you can rub off the bloom. Don't do it, Claire! Be generous. Be yourself. Wish us good luck!" "Wish _who_ good luck? What, oh, what are you talking about?" Claire was gasping now, quivering with a frenzy of excitement. Robert Judge stared in return, his face full of an honest bewilderment. "Of our engagement, of course. Your mother's engagement to me. I have been talking about it all the time!"