"Only one," he answered, as he took the cup. "Thank you." There was a change of tone in his voice, and she knew that it was hopeless for her to try to postpone what he had to say. But she could not help making the effort. "I'm so glad you like this tea," she said, hastily. "It is part of a chest Miss Marlenspuyk had sent to her from Japan, and she let me have two or three pounds. Wasn't it nice of her?" But the attempt failed. The sailor had gulped his tea, and now he set the cup down. "Mrs. Randolph--" he began, with a break in his voice. "Mr. Stone!" she answered, laughingly; "that's a solemn way of addressing me, isn't it? At least it's serious, if it isn't solemn." "Mrs. Randolph," he repeated, "what I have to say is serious--very serious to me, at least." Then she knew that it was idle to try to delay matters. She drew a long breath and responded as lightly as she could: "Yes?" "I hope I am not going to take you by surprise, Mrs. Randolph," he went on. "You are so bright and so quick that you must have seen that I admired you." He waited for her response, and she was forced to say something. Even though the man was trying to marry her for the money he thought she had, he was at least exhibiting a most becoming ardor. "Well," she declared, "I didn't suppose you were very much bored in my society." "I have never before seen a woman in whose society I have taken so much pleasure," he answered. "You cannot imagine how great a joy it has been for me to know you, and how much I have enjoyed the privilege of coming to see you here in your charming home." She glanced at the commonplace parlor of the hotel she hated, but she said nothing. "You spoke just now of loneliness," he continued. "I hope you don't know what that really is--at least that you don't know it as I know it. But if you have felt it at all, I shall have the less hesitation in asking if you--if you are willing to consider what it would mean to me if you could put an end to my loneliness." "Mr. Stone!" she said, as she dropped her eyes. "It is not your beauty alone that has drawn me to you," he urged, "not your charm, although I have felt that from the first day I met you. No; it is more than that, I think--it is your goodness, your gentleness, your kindness, your womanliness. I don't know how to find words for what I want to say, but you must know what I mean. I mean that I love you, and I beg you to be my wife." "This is very sudden, Mr. Stone," she replied. "Is it?" he asked, honestly. "I thought everybody must have seen how I felt toward you." "Oh, I supposed you liked me a little," she went on. "I love you with all my heart," he said, and she wondered at the sincerity with which he said it. She wished she had never heard that little Mat Hitchcock talk against him.