“Where have you been all the time?” he asked, when he had shaken hands and said good-morning. “Up in my room packing,” I said simply. “Lord Robert was so kind, he helped me--we have got everything done, and may I order the carriage for the 5.15 train, please?” “Certainly not--confound Lord Robert!” Mr. Carruthers said. “What business is it of his? You are not to go. I won’t let you. Dear, silly, little child--” his voice was quite moved. “You can’t possibly go out into the world all alone. Evangeline, why won’t you marry me? I--do you know, I believe--I shall love you----” “I should have to be _perfectly sure_ that the person I married loved me, Mr. Carruthers,” I said, demurely, “before I consented to finish up my life like that.” He had no time to answer, for Mr. Barton and Lord Robert came into the room. There seemed a gloom over luncheon. There were pauses, and Lord Robert had a more pathetic expression than ever. His hands are a nice shape--but so are Mr. Carruthers’, they both look very much like gentlemen. Before we had finished, a note was brought in to me. It was from Lady Katherine Montgomerie. She was too sorry, she said, to hear of my lonely position, and she was writing to ask if I would not come over and spend a fortnight with them at Tryland Court. It was not well worded, and I had never cared much for Lady Katherine, but it was fairly kind, and fitted in perfectly with my plans. She had probably heard of Mr. Carruthers’ arrival, and was scandalized at my being alone in the house with him. Both men had their eyes fixed on my face when I looked up, as I finished reading the note. “Lady Katherine Montgomerie writes to ask me to Tryland,” I said; “so if you will excuse me I will answer it, and say I will come this afternoon,”--and I got up. Mr. Carruthers rose too, and followed me into the library. He deliberately shut the door and came over to the writing-table where I sat down. “Well, if I let you go, will you tell her then that you are engaged to me, and I am going to marry you as soon as possible.” “No, indeed I won’t!” I said, decidedly. “I am not going to marry you, or any one, Mr. Carruthers. What do you think of me--! Fancy my consenting to come back here for ever, and live with you--when I don’t know you a bit--and having to put up with your--perhaps--kissing me, and, and--things of that sort! It is perfectly dreadful to think of!” He laughed as if in spite of himself. “But supposing I promised not to kiss you----?” “Even so,” I said, and I couldn’t help biting the end of my pen, “it could happen that I might get a feeling I wanted to kiss some one else--and there it is! Once you’re married, everything nice is wrong!” “Evangeline! I won’t let you go--out of my life--you strange little witch, you have upset me, disturbed me, I can settle to nothing. I seem to want you so very much.” “Pouff!” I said, and I pouted at him.