"Sir Patrick is a terrible old man," he answered. "Just before you
came in he discovered one of my secrets by only looking in my face." He
paused, rallied his courage, pushed on at all hazards, and came headlong
to the point. "I wonder," he asked, bluntly, "whether you take after
your uncle?"

Blanche instantly understood him. With time at her disposal, she would
have taken him lightly in hand, and led him, by fine gradations, to the
object in view. But in two minutes or less it would be Arnold's turn to
play. "He is going to make me an offer," thought Blanche; "and he has
about a minute to do it in. He _shall_ do it!"

"What!" she exclaimed, "do you think the gift of discovery runs in the
family?"

Arnold made a plunge.

"I wish it did!" he said.

Blanche looked the picture of astonishment.

"Why?" she asked.

"If you could see in my face what Sir Patrick saw--"

He had only to finish the sentence, and the thing was done. But the
tender passion perversely delights in raising obstacles to itself. A
sudden timidity seized on Arnold exactly at the wrong moment. He stopped
short, in the most awkward manner possible.