“It could not be done, Miss Lottie. I know it could not be done. You are a lady, and far above me. I know I am not your equal--in some things.” Lottie began to be too angry to laugh, but yet she was provoked to ridicule, which is the keenest of weapons. She made him a little mocking curtsey. “It is very kind of you to say so, I am sure, for we are quite poor people, Mr. Purcell; not fortunate, and getting on in the world like you.” “No, Miss Despard,” he said, simply, “that was just what I wanted to say. If you had been as well off as I could wish, I should not have ventured to say anything. I have always loved you, and thought of you above all the world. Since you first came to St. Michael’s, I have never thought of any one but you. It has been my hope that some time or other I might be able to--but it was only just yesterday that I heard something that made me settle--two things----” She did not speak, being, indeed, too angry and annoyed for speech; but she felt a kind of contemptuous, wrathful interest in what he was saying, and curiosity to know what it was that had induced him to make this venture; and, accordingly, gave him a glance, in which there was an impatient question. Purcell was not too discriminating. He felt encouraged by being listened to, from whatsoever motive. “Two things,” he said, with stolid steadiness. “One, to take Sturminster. I had settled before I would not take it, but St. Ermengilde’s. But when I heard _that_, I changed my mind, though it did not please the Signor. Sturminster will make me independent; it will give me a home. And then I settled to tell you, Miss Lottie: if you are uncomfortable at home, if you don’t like things that may be going to happen: to tell you that there’s another home ready for you, if you will have it; a home that may be made very comfortable; a place of your own, to do what you like with, that will be waiting for you, whenever you please, at a moment’s notice, the sooner the better. If you would say yes, I would go directly, I would go to-morrow, and prepare; and nobody would be able to give you trouble or make you uncomfortable any longer. Only say the word, and there is nothing, nothing I would not do----” Lottie stood and gazed at him, wondering, bitterly ashamed and humiliated, and yet not without a sense that so much simple devotion was worth more than to be crushed, or scorned, or flung from her, as she wished to fling it. She restrained herself with an effort. “What do you mean?” she said. “Is it possible that you are asking me to _marry_ you, Mr. Purcell? That cannot be what you mean.” “What else could it be?” he said, turning on her a look of genuine surprise. “You don’t suppose, Miss Despard, that I could be thinking of anything else?”