continued, perhaps———," and there he checked himself.
Persis looked up at him hastily. "Yet, after all, what?" she asked, with evident interest.
The young man drew an almost inaudible sigh. "Yet, after all—nothing," he answered, evasively.
"That might do for an Englishwoman," Persis put in, with American frankness, "but it won't do for me. You must tell me what you mean by it." For she reflected sagely that the happiness of two lives might depend upon those two minutes; and how foolish to throw away the chance of a man you really like (with a my-ladyship to boot), all for the sake of a pure convention!
"Sir Justin hesitated a second."
Sir Justin leaned against the woodwork of that retiring porch. She was a beautiful girl. He had hot Irish blood…. Well, yes; just for once—he would say the plain truth to her.
"Miss Remanet," he began, leaning forward, and bringing his face close to hers, "Miss Remanet—Persis—shall I tell you the reason why? Because I like you so much. I almost think I love you!"
Persis felt the blood quiver in her tingling cheeks. How handsome he was—and a baronet!
"And yet you're not altogether sorry," she said, reproachfully, "that I'm going to Paris!"
"No, not altogether sorry," he answered, sticking to it; "and I'll tell you why, too, Miss Remanet. I like you very much, and I think you like me. For a week or two, I've been saying to myself, I really believe I must ask her to marry me.' The temptation's been so strong I could hardly resist it."
"And why do you want to resist it?" Persis asked, all tremulous.
Sir Justin hesitated a second; then with a perfectly natural and instinctive movement (though only a gentleman would have ventured to make it) he lifted his hand and just touched with the tips of his fingers the ruby pendants on her necklet. "This is why," he answered simply, and with manly frankness. "Persis, you're so rich! I never dare ask you."
"Perhaps you don't know what my answer would be," Persis murmured very low, just to preserve her own dignity.
"Oh, yes; I think I do," the young man replied, gazing deeply into her dark eyes. "It isn't that; if it were only that, I wouldn't so much mind it. But I think you'd take me." There was moisture in her eye. He went on more boldly: "I know you'd take me, Persis, and that's why I don't ask you. You're a great deal too rich, and these make it impossible."
"Sir Justin," Persis answered, removing his hand gently, but with the moisture growing thicker, for she really liked him, "it's most unkind of you to say so; either you oughtn't to have told me at all, or else—if you did———"She stopped short. Womanly shame overcame her.
The man leaned forward and spoke earnestly. "Oh, don't say that!" he cried, from his heart. "I couldn't bear to offend you. But I couldn't bear, either, to let you go away well without having ever told you. In that case you might have thought I didn't care at all for you, and was only flirting with you. But, Persis, I've cared a great deal for you—a great, great deal—and had hard work many times to prevent myself from asking you. And I'll tell you the plain reason why I haven't asked you. I'm a man about town, not much good, I'm afraid, for anybody or
