But he was well dressed and agreeable, and talked so constantly about “my Cousin Bayard, you know,” that Fair found him, on the whole, a very pleasant acquaintance. “Bayard is going to marry an heiress, you know,” he confided to her, adding, with an admiring glance into the bright brown eyes: “But, by Jove, you know, if I’d had such a chance as that beggar the day he sailed, I’d have stayed at home and let that girl go, in spite of her moneybags.” CHAPTER VI. A MARRIAGE PROPOSAL. “Marry you!” cried Fair, starting back, half frightened. “Why, I’ve scarcely known you a month, Mr. Lorraine!” They were alone in the room, for Mrs. Fielding had discreetly left the room. The evening was warm, and Fair was sitting by the open window, dressed in white, with her red-gold curls loose on her shoulders, and a pink rose in her belt, a lovely picture of youth and innocence--and George Lorraine appeared to think so, for he looked very earnest as he bent over her, begging for the gift of her heart and hand. “Yes, I’ve only known you for a month,” he said, “and, my dear girl, if you were rich and fashionable, I should wait longer before I asked you to marry me; but it is for your sake and your mother’s, as much as for my own. Do you not know, dearest, that I am anxious to remove you from these humble surroundings”--and he flashed a glance of disdain around the shabby little room--“to my beautiful Fifth Avenue home, where you will have such surroundings as befit your beauty and your worth?” The beautiful face before him grew pale with emotion. Fair was frightened at the thought of marrying George Lorraine, yet dazzled at the glittering prospect he held out to her. Besides, what would her mother say if she refused him? Fair knew quite well that she would be bitterly disappointed, even angry. “I do not think you are indifferent to me, Fair,” continued her lover. “You have accepted my attentions, and you have seemed to take pleasure in my company and conversation.” It was all true; she could not deny it. Yet what would he say if she dared tell him that she had welcomed his coming, listened to him with delight, because he talked so much of his cousin--of Bayard Lorraine, whose image filled her heart, whom she loved with the maddest, most foolish love the world ever knew--since, for the one hope of meeting her ideal again, she was thinking of giving her hand to George Lorraine?