'Why?' he echoed passionately, and as he went on his words, his voice, his manner trembled in the fine balance between the humour of the thing and its gravity. 'Ah, Rose, that is the question! Because I'm a fool, say you; because I'm a man, say I. Because I love you, Rose; because I think of you when I ought to be thinking of other things. Because I'm an idiot, and have gone all to pieces. Because it's torture to think you may go away and marry some one else. Because I can't even add up a column of figures without wondering what you will say now--now when I ask you to marry me? Because--yes! have it so--because I am a fool!----' He had held out his hands towards her, and hers were in them in an instant. 'Oh, Lewis, what a wretch I've been!' she cried; 'but why didn't you ask me before?' 'Why--didn't--you--ask me--before,' he repeated slowly. The favours which had fallen from her lap lay round about their feet, and those on the table were squashed remorselessly as he seated himself upon its edge with the air of a man who requires some physical support, and still holding her by the hands, drew her down beside him silently. 'I shall never understand you, dear--thank God!' he said at last in an undertone: then went on in a different voice--'It is a little confusing, Rose, you must admit. All this time, ever since you told me that you----' She interrupted him quickly, eagerly--'Ah, but that was a totally different thing altogether!' 'Totally different,' he echoed meekly. 'Yes, of course!' And then he paused again with his eyes on hers. 'I suppose you would rather I didn't kiss you?' he began irrelatively, with a half smile of infinite tenderness. 'Oh, I don't mind,' she put in hastily; 'it doesn't really matter--if you wish--only don't talk nonsense, Lewis; please don't. I do hate it so; it makes me feel inclined to put my head in a bag.' 'Then I won't; I can't afford to lose sight of your dear face just now.' 'Lewis!' 'But if I don't say that sort of thing, what _are_ we to talk about?' he asked, only half in jest. 'The weather--the news? Not very interesting subjects either of them to a man when the girl he loves has just promised to marry him--for you have promised, haven't you, Rose?' She took no notice of his question. 'Talk about,' she echoed, her kind eyes growing a little absent--'surely there are heaps of things to talk about besides you and me. There is the house we are going to have, Lewis; such a nice house! The prettiest drawing-room you ever saw; I will have it so. And a study for you, all to yourself, sir, where you can go when you're tired of me. And then the dinners, Lewis! That's one blessing of my having kept house for father. I know all about it. There won't be any cold mutton, Lewis; but the nicest little dinners.' She paused to nod her head wisely. 'Well,' said Lewis, 'please go on; this is really most interesting.'