I
had begun to realize that William was not likely to bring his courage
to the sticking point without a great deal of encouragement.
Distasteful as the idea was to me, I did not intend to shrink from what
I felt was to be my duty. If he, though languishing for love, was too
faint-hearted to propose, I saw that it would be necessary for me to
undertake that task.
Last evening, therefore, when he called I received him in the
drawing-room and explained that Netta and Henry had gone out to the
theatre. He at once made for the door, saying in that case he would
not stop, but I intercepted him. Closing the door, I said gently, 'I
am going to ask you to keep me company for an hour--if,' I added
archly, 'it won't bore you.'
In a confused sort of way he assured me it would not, and he sat down
and dropped into the silence that is becoming habitual when we are left
alone together.
I knitted and he pulled hard at his cigarette. At last I said: 'Why
don't you smoke a pipe, Mr. Rawlings? I know you prefer it.'
'No, no,' he said vehemently, 'I would much rather have a cigarette.
It's a cleaner habit than pipe-smoking, isn't it?'
I smiled faintly and mentally decided that when we were married I would
not allow him to deprive himself of one of his greatest joys for my
sake.
There was another long silence and then, feeling extremely nervous, I
murmured haltingly, 'I--I--wonder if you missed me when I was away
nursing my great sick aunt--I--I--mean my sick great-aunt.
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