"I'm sure I don't," replied Miss Sheldon, demurely, then looking up, she caught his eye, and they both laughed gaily. The conservatory was certainly a very pleasant place, with its wealth of palms, of cactuses, of ferns and such-like tropical vegetation. A pale, emerald radiance from green-shaded lamps bathed the whole place, and at one end a slender jet of water shot up like a silver rod from the stillness of a wide pool, in which floated great white water-lilies. The band in the distant ball-room were playing a _pot pourri_ of airs from the latest opera, and Otterburn sat under the drooping fronds of a palm-tree beside Victoria, with the fatal words which would bind him for life trembling on his lips. So handsome he looked in his picturesque Scotch dress, with the waving tartans and gleam of Cairngorm brooches, and his bright young face bent towards her, full of tender meaning. Victoria knew quite well that he intended to propose again, and her heart beat rapidly as her eyes fell before the fiery light which burned in his own. "I suppose you have quite forgotten Como?" said Otterburn, in what he meant to be a matter-of-fact tone. Miss Sheldon began to draw designs on the floor with the toe of her dainty boot, and laughed nervously. "Oh no! it was the first time I was in Italy, you know, and first impressions----" "Are always excellent." "Yes, I suppose so." "I hope you don't think the same about first refusals." "Refusals of what?" she replied, wilfully misunderstanding his meaning, at which Otterburn felt somewhat disappointed. "Ah, your memory is treacherous." "I think not! I can remember most things--when I choose." "Then do you remember how we talked about Scotch costumes, and I said I'd put mine on the first Fancy Dress Ball we went to." "Yes! I remember that." "This is the first Fancy Dress Ball." "And you are in your tartans," she answered, with a sudden glance. "How curiously it all comes about. I thought you had forgotten." "I never forget anything you say," he replied eagerly. "I wish I could." "Now that's very unkind of you! Why?" "Because I wish to forget how cruel you were to me at the Villa Medici." "Was I cruel?" she asked, with sudden compunction. "You know you were," he answered reproachfully, "so I think you ought to make up for it." He took her hand that was lying on her lap, and drew her towards him. She made no resistance, but still kept her eyes cast down. "How can I make up for it?" she asked, in a low voice. "By saying Yes, instead of No," he replied ardently. "Certainly. Yes, instead of No." "How cruel you are still," he said impatiently. "You understand what I mean quite well. You sent me away to wander all over the face of the earth because you were----" "A coquette," she interrupted. "I never said so," he answered, rather taken aback. "You did--then." "I? Well I do not now. I'll say you are the dearest, sweetest girl in the world if you'll only say----" "Yes."