"I'm quite sure of what I say." She turned and faced him, and her face shewed sharp and old under her powder. "You're exactly like your father. Your face, your voice, your foot-step, your temper—even that aggravating way you have of tilting your chair. . ."
The chair went down with a bang.
"There are some men who never fall in love. But they need companionship and a home. And here's a really good nice girl who worships the ground you walk on."
"Nonsense!" he put in, and almost felt as though he were blushing.
"Well, judge for yourself. Now I've told you, you can judge. You can make this nice girl happy and make yourself comfortable for life. Now don't say anything. All I want you to promise me is that you'll think it over. No, don't say anything. Don't speak. Think. Think hard. You'll never find a wife more suited to you in every way than Hilda Antrobus."
"Hilda Antrobus!" he was beginning, but she came swiftly to him and put her hand over his mouth. A soft little hand, adequately ringed and scented with lavender.
"Not a word; just promise me you'll think it over. And when you see her, notice. She'll be there to-day."
"Oh Lord!" said John Rochester, looking towards the door.
"Say you'll think it over."
"You haven't said anything to her about it?"
"My darling boy! As if I should! Now just promise to think it over,"
"Oh, very well, I'll think it over all right," he said. "And now let's drop it, shall we?"
"By all means—not another word!" she answered. "You're a dear, good, clever boy, and you deserve to be happy, if ever a boy did, and if you and that nice Hilda . . ."
But he had escaped.
He did not mean to think it over. But he found that he could think of nothing else; and when on the lawn at
