"There's a great deal in the little word 'yet,' Miss Heather. We should not be rich, neither would we be exactly poor, but I am quite sure I could make you happy. Truly, I never really cared for Dorothy. She was thought a good match for me, and all that sort of thing, you know; but she was too statuesque. I want life, I want warmth, I want soul, I want--oh! all the things you could give. I would make you as happy as the day is long; I could, and I would. Then--let me whisper. You need never see _her_ any more. Think of it, dear little Heather! Heather, Morris is quite close, and I must whisper a secret to you. It was from the day I first met you that I began to find out what sort of girl Lady Dorothy really was--I discovered then that there was a better girl in the world than Lady Dorothy. I want a wife like you; I want you, your very self; you, before you learn to love the world and the ways of the world; you--just because you are so young and so pure and sweet. Think of it, think of it, Heather, and don't say no! Wait at least until to-morrow. I will be in this very place at eleven o'clock to-morrow morning, waiting to get your answer." CHAPTER XI I do not know how I parted with Vernon Carbury. I cannot recall even to this day whether I shook hands with him or not, or even whether he walked with me as far as the gates of the Park. What I do remember vividly is this: that I went home to Hanbury Square like one walking in a dream. The whole world seemed to me to be filled with a wonderful new light. In the midst of this radiance was one figure, one face; out of the brightness one voice seemed to speak, and one pair of eyes to shine. I was certain I did not in the least love Captain Carbury, but I did know that our meeting had been full of keen excitement, and that I was altogether lifted out of myself into a new and wonderful world. I wanted to be quite alone, to think over what had happened. I was puzzled, too, at the fact that I was trembling, and that my cheeks were hot one minute and that I felt cold all over the next. Morris walked discreetly behind me, and the beautiful smell of the violets came in wafts now and then to my nostrils. During our walk home Morris had not spoken to me. When I reached the house I went straight to my pretty bedroom; I wanted more badly than ever to be quite by myself, but Morris annoyed me. She followed me into my bedroom, carrying the violets. "Shall I arrange these in your sitting-room for you, miss?" she asked. "Please do," I answered; "and Morris, do not come near me for a time, for I wish to be quite alone." "Certainly, miss. I was to say, please, that the Major and her ladyship have gone on the river, but that lunch will be ready for you whenever you wish for it in the smaller dining-room." "I am not hungry, and I don't wish for lunch," I replied. "Shall I bring you up some tea and a lightly boiled egg, miss?" "Yes; that will do nicely," I answered.