confidingly, "to tell you the truth, we both did—that is, you know, while we were laboring under the very natural mistake that you were a very small baby instead of—a grown-up one. But all that is altered now, of course, since I have met you, Miss West. We shall be only too happy to have you for our compagnon du voyage."
He was speaking to her quite as if she were his equal, and not the lowly born niece of the housekeeper at his ancestral home. It was impossible to keep that fact in his head. She was so fair, so refined, so well-bred, in spite of the little flashes of spirit indicative of a spoiled child.
She did not answer, and he continued, pleasantly:
"I am very sorry for the mistake on my part that caused you so much annoyance. I desire to offer you every possible apology for it."
She looked up at him quickly. "Oh, I wasn't mad because you thought Leonora West was a baby," she said.
"Then why—because I thought you were a nurse?"
"Not that either. I was only amused at those mistakes of yours."
She paused a moment, then added, with a rising flush:
"It was for those other words you said."
"I do not blame you at all. I was a regular brute," said Lancaster, penitently. "Do say that you forgive me, I never should have said it if only I had known."
"Known what?" she inquired.
"That you were the baby I had to carry to England. I should have been only too happy to be of service to you. De Vere will be distracted with envy at my privilege. There, I have said several pretty things to you. Will you not forgive me now?"
"Yes, I will forgive you, but you do not deserve it," answered Leonora. "It was not kind to talk about me so, even if I had been an unconscious baby."
"It was not," he admitted. "But think a moment, Miss West. I am a bachelor, and I know nothing at all of babies. I have forgotten all the experiences of my own babyhood. I was wretched at the idea of having to convey one of those troublesome little problems across the ocean. I would as soon have been presented with a white elephant. I should have known quite as much of one as the other. Can you find it in your heart to chide me for my reluctance?"
Leonora reflected, with her pretty brows drawn together.
"Well, perhaps you are right," she acknowledged, after a moment. "They are troublesome—babies, I mean—I think you called them problems. You were right there, too, for one does not know what to make of them, nor what they will do next, nor what they will become in the future."
"Then you can not blame me, can not be angry with me. And you will be ready to go with me to-morrow?"
"No, I think not. I am afraid, after all you have said, Captain Lancaster, that you really are vexed in your mind at the thought of taking me. I do not believe I ought to take advantage of your pretended readiness," she replied, sensitively, and with that perfect frankness that seemed to be one of her characteristics.
"And you refuse to go with me?" He gazed at her despairingly.
"I would rather not," decidedly.
He looked at the pretty face in some alarm. It had a very resolute air. Would she really carry out her threat of staying behind? He did not know much about American girls, but he had heard that they managed their own affairs rather more than their English sisters. This one looked exceedingly like the heroine of that familiar ballad:
"When she will, she will, depend on't,
And when she won't, she won't,
And there's an end on't."
She glanced up and saw him pulling at the ends of his mustache with an injured air, and a dark frown on his brow.
"Why do you look so mad? I should think you would be glad I'm not going."
"I am vexed. I wasn't aware that I looked mad. In England we put mad people into insane asylums," he replied, rather stiffly.
"Thank you. I understand. Old England is giving Young America a rhetorical hint. Why do you look so vexed, then, Captain Lancaster?"
"Because there will be no end of a row in Lancaster Park when I go there, because you have not come with me."
"Will there, really?"
"Yes; and my aunt, Lady Lancaster, who has promised to give me all her money when she dies, will cut me off with a shilling because I have disobeyed her orders and disappointed Mrs. West."
The blue-gray eyes opened to their widest extent.
"No!" she said.
"Yes, indeed," he replied.
"Then she must be a very hard woman," said Miss West, in a decided tone.
"She is," he replied, laconically.
"You are certain that she would not give you the money?" anxiously.
"Quite certain," he answered.
"And—have you none of your own?"
"Only my pay in the army," he admitted, laughing within himself at her naïve curiosity.
"Is that much?" she went on, gravely.
"Enough to keep me in boots and hats," he answered, with an owl-like gravity.
"And this Lady Lancaster—your aunt—does she give you the rest?" persevered Leonora.
He did not want to be rude, but he burst out laughing. She looked up into the bright blue eyes and reddened warmly.
"I dare say you think me curious and ill-bred," she said.
"Oh, no, no, not at all. I am intensely flattered by the interest you take in my affairs."
"It is only because I do not want to be the means of your losing that money, if you want it. Do you?"
"Indeed I do. Anybody would be glad to have twenty thousand a year," he replied.
"So much as that? Then, of course, I must not be the cause of your losing it," said Leonora, gravely.
"Then you will go with me?" he cried, with quite a load lifted from his mind by her unexpected concession.
"Ye-es. I suppose I shall have to go," she answered.
"A thousand thanks. I thought you would relent," he said. "And will you be ready to sail with me to-morrow?"
"Oh, yes, quite ready. My trunks have been packed several weeks, and I have been only waiting for you to come," she answered, promptly.
And then she slipped her small hand into the folds of her dress and drew out a netted silk purse, through whose meshes he caught the glitter of gold pieces. She counted out a number of shining coins into his hand with quite a business-like air.
"That is the price of my ticket. Will you please buy it for me? I will have my luggage sent down all right," she said.
He took the money mechanically and rose, thinking this a dismissal. Then something that had been on his mind all the time rose to his lips.
"I want to ask a great favor of you, Miss West."
She looked at him with a slight air of wonder, and answered: "Yes."
"You will meet with my friend, Lieutenant De Vere, on board the steamer. He is a very nice youth indeed. He will be good friends with you directly."
"In-deed?" said Leonora, in a slow, inquiring voice that implied a distinct doubt on the subject.
"Yes, indeed. You need not look so incredulous. You will be sure to like him. The ladies all adore him."
She looked up at him with the dimples coming into roguish play around her mouth.
"And you wish to warn me not to fall a victim to his manifold perfections?" she said.
"Oh, dear, no, not at all. I never thought of such a thing. You see, Miss West, my friend intensely enjoys a joke."
"Yes?" she gazed at him with an air of thorough mystification.
"He intensely enjoys a joke," repeated Lancaster.