Parslewe was ahead," I answered. "Or yesterday, or the day before, or the day before that—any time since I first met you. But now—wouldn't it look as if I were proposing to the Palkeney estate?"
She suddenly looked up, gave me a queer glance, and rising from her chair walked over to one of the embrasured windows. I followed her—and after a moment's silence, slipped my arm round her waist.
"What on earth's to be done?" I asked her. "Tell me!"
I got her to look round at last.
"You're an awful old ass!" she said in a whisper. "I saw the way out at once. He didn't say he'd give all this to me! He said he'd give it to—us!"
"Is it going to be—us, then?" I demanded eagerly.
"Seems very like it, I think, doesn't it?" she answered, demurely.
So—but not for a little while—we went to tell Parslewe.
THE END
