“Listen,” he said, and he flung himself into an armchair. “You can marry me, and I will take you to Paris, or where you want, and I won’t order you about,—only I shall keep the other beasts of men from looking at you.”

But I told him at once I thought that would be very dull. “I have never had the chance of any one looking at me,” I said, “and I want to[41] feel what it is like. Mrs. Carruthers always assured me I was very pretty, you know, only she said that I was certain to come to a bad end, because of my type, unless I got married at once, and then if my head was screwed on the right way it would not matter; but I don’t agree with her.”

[41]

He walked up and down the room impatiently.

“That is just it,” he said.” I would rather be the first—I would rather you began by me. I am strong enough to ward off the rest.”

“What does ’beginning by you’ mean?” I asked with great candour. “Old Lord Bentworth said I should begin by him, when he was here to shoot pheasants last autumn; he said it could not matter, he was so old; but I didn’t——”

Mr. Carruthers bounded up from his chair.

“You didn’t what! Good Lord, what did he want you to do!” he asked aghast.

“Well,” I said, and I looked down for a moment, I felt stupidly shy, “he wanted me to kiss him.”

[42]

[42]

Mr. Carruthers appeared almost relieved, it was strange!

“The old wretch! Nice company my aunt seems to have kept!” he exclaimed. “Could she not take better care of you than that—to let you be insulted by her guests.”

“I don’t think Lord Bentworth meant to insult me. He only said he had never seen such a red, curly mouth as mine, and as I was bound to go to the devil some day with that, and such hair, I might begin by kissing him—he explained it all.”

“And were you not very angry?” his voice wrathful.

“No—not very, I could not be, I was shaking so with laughter. If you could have seen the silly old thing, 

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