"I'm a very plain sort of fellow, Miss Sheldon," he said, with a certain boyish dignity, "and I can't talk so glibly about things as most men, but I think you can guess what I want to say to you." He paused for a moment, but as Victoria made no observation, he drew a long breath, and continued: "I love you, and I want you to marry me--if you'll have me." In spite of the brusqueness of this declaration, crude in the extreme, adorned with no fine flowers of speech or passionate protestations of eternal love, Victoria felt that he spoke from his heart, and that this manly declaration was more to be believed than any sickly, sentimental speech of honey and spice. Still, she made no sign to show how deeply his honest straightforwardness had touched her, but scribbled idly on the blotting-paper with her pen, whereupon Otterburn, emboldened by her silence, gently took the hand which was lying on her lap, and went on with increasing hopefulness of tone. "I trust you do not think me presumptuous in speaking so soon, but although I have only known you a few weeks, yet in that time I have learned to love you very dearly, and if you'll only become my wife, I'll do everything in my power to make you happy." She withdrew her hand from his grasp, and throwing down the pen on the table, turned her clear eyes gravely on his face, then, without any maidenly confusion or any mock modesty, she answered him calmly, although the tremulous quivering of her nether lip showed how deeply she was moved. "You are doing me a great honour, Mr. Macjean, and I assure you I appreciate the manner in which you have spoken, but--it cannot be." "Oh, surely----" "No," she replied, lifting her hand to stay his further speech. "I am only a girl, I know, but then I have been brought up in the Colonies, and in these matters I think Australian girls are more self-reliant than those in England." She might have been a schoolmistress delivering a lecture on manners, so coldly did she speak. "I like you! I respect you, but I do not love you, and I could marry no man without loving him. We have only known each other three weeks, so are in total ignorance of each other's character. No, Mr. Macjean, much as I thank you for the honour you have done me--the greatest honour a man can offer a woman--yet I must say no." "Can you give me no hope?" "I don't think it would be wise to do so. We part to-morrow, and may meet others we like better, so it would be foolish for either you or myself to bind ourselves in any way." Otterburn, seeing from her cool, composed speech that her mind was made up, arose to his feet with a look of despair on his bright, young face, upon which she also arose from her chair, and laid her hand gently on his shoulder.