She had almost begun to resent it, when suddenly, very softly, he spoke:
"It's never too late to mend, is it?"
"I don't know," she answered. "I almost think it is--at my age."
He dipped her handkerchief again in the fountain, and dabbed his face
afresh. Then:
"Don't you think you might try?" he suggested, in his speculative drawl.
She shook her head rather drearily.
"I suppose I shall have to resign myself, and get a companion. I shall
hate it, and so will the companion, but----"
"Think so?" said Lord Ronald. He laid his hand quietly on her knee.
"Mrs. Denvers," he said, "I am afraid you thought me awfully impertinent
when I suggested your marrying me the other day. It wasn't very
ingenious of me, I admit. But what can you expect from a nonentity? Not
brains, surely! I am not going to repeat the blunder. I know very well
that I am no bigger than a peppercorn in your estimation, and we will
leave it at that. But, you know, you are too young, you really are too
young, to live alone. Now listen a moment. You trust me. You said so.
You'll stick to that?"
"Of course," she said, wondering greatly what was coming.
"Then will you," he proceeded very quietly, "have me for a watch-dog
until you marry again? I could make you an excellent Sikh servant, and I
could go with you practically everywhere. Don't begin to laugh at the
suggestion until you have thoroughly considered it.
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