after she had ceased speaking that he raised them. When he did so, the sight of a certain rosy, lovely eagerness in Isabel's face threw some confusion into his attempt to analyse what she had said. "I will go home—I will go to-morrow—I will leave you alone," he murmured at last. "Only," he added in a louder tone—"I hate to lose sight of you!"
"Never fear. I will do no harm."
"You will marry some one else," said Caspar Goodwood.
"Do you think that is a generous charge?"
"Why not? Plenty of men will ask you."
"I told you just now that I don't wish to marry, and that I shall probably never do so."
"I know you did; but I don't believe it."
"Thank you very much. You appear to think I am attempting to deceive you; you say very delicate things."
"Why should I not say that] You have given me no promise that you will not marry."
"No, that is all that would be wanting!" cried Isabel, with a bitter laugh.
"You think you won't, but you will," her visitor went on, as if he were preparing himself for the worst.
"Very well, I will then. Have it as you please."
"I don't know, however," said Caspar Goodwood, "that my keeping you in sight would prevent it."
"Don't you indeed? I am, after all, very much afraid of you. Do you think I am so very easily pleased?" she asked suddenly, changing her tone.
"No, I don't; I shall try and console myself with that. But there are a certain number of very clever men in the world; if there were only one, it would be enough. You will be sure to take no one who is not."
