nature an impulsive man, but he was a man of the world as well, and
he had his impulses pretty well subordinated to interest and
common-sense; nevertheless he felt very much like doing a rash and
impulsive thing at the present moment. He was a man of rapid thought,
and these reflections chased each other through his mind much more
quickly than I have been able to take them down, and Miss Penrhyn
had averted her gaze and was playing nervously with some flowers in
a basket on a pedestal beside her. She was acutely aware that she had
made a fool of herself, and imagined that his hesitation was due to
a polite desire to arrange his reply in such wise as not to make his
appreciation of the fact too crudely apparent. At the same time she
was a little exhausted under the reaction of a short but very severe
mental strain. As for Dartmouth, he hesitated a moment longer. He was
balancing several pros and cons very rapidly. He was aware that if he
asked this girl to marry him and she consented, he must, as a man of
honor, abide by the contract, no matter how much she might disappoint
him hereafter. At the same time the knowledge that he was in love
with her was growing more distinct every second. Doubtless the wisest
course would be to go away for the present and postpone any decisive
step until he knew her better. But he was not a patient man, and he
was not in the habit of putting off until to-morrow what he could do
to-day. (He considered that certain of the precepts instilled during
childhood were of admirable practical value). The best thing in life
was its morning: he did not like evening shadows and autumn twilights.
There was nothing that could compare with the sweetness and fineness
of the flavor of novelty. When it was practicable to take advantage
of one's impulses one had a brief draught of true philosopher's
happiness. And, at all events, this girl was a lady, high-born,
high-bred, intellectual, and unique. She was also plastic, and if she
had a somewhat too high-strung nature, love had been known to work