"If you had arranged it?" said Sir Arthur, crinkling a little his high, white forehead, while the conviction rose before Littlemore that she had indeed arranged it.
"I 'm going to do something very strange," she went on, and her eye glittered with a light that confirmed her words.
"You 're excited, I 'm afraid you 're ill." Sir Arthur stood there with his hat and his stick; he was evidently much annoyed.
"It 's an excellent opportunity; you must forgive me if I take advantage." And she flashed a tender, touching ray at the baronet. "I have wanted this a long time—perhaps you have seen I wanted it. Mr. Littlemore has known me a long, long time; he 's an old, old friend. I told you that in Paris, don't you remember? Well, he 's my only one, and I want him to speak for me." Her eyes had turned now to Littlemore; they rested upon him with a sweetness that only made the whole proceeding more audacious. She had begun to smile again, though she was visibly trembling. "He 's my only one," she continued; "it 's a great pity, you ought to have known others. But I 'm very much alone, I must make the best of what I have. I want so much that some one else than myself should speak for me. Women usually can ask that service of a relative, or of another woman. I can't; it's a great pity, but it's not my fault, it's my misfortune. None of my people are here; and I'm
