have married an Indian, would you?"

The irony of the situation had reached its climax to Peter. It didn't
seem to be his voice that said, "I can answer by an argument still more
personal. I have even thought myself of marrying an Indian woman."

It seemed to him that what he said was irrevocable, but he was
desperate. It seemed to him that in a moment more he would have told her
his whole secret. But the young girl drew back from him with a slight
start of surprise. There may have been something in the tone of his
voice and in his manner that verged upon a seriousness she was never
contemplating in her random talk; it may have been an uneasiness of
some youthful imprudence in pressing the subject upon a man of his
superiority, and that his abrupt climax was a rebuke. But it was only
for a moment; her youthful buoyancy, and, above all, a certain common
sense that was not incompatible to her high nature, came to her rescue.
"But that," she said with quick mischievousness, "would be a SACRIFICE
taken in the interest of these people, don't you see; and being a
sacrifice, it's no argument."

Peter saw his mistake, but there was something so innocent and
delightful in the youthful triumph of this red-lipped logician, that
he was forced to smile. I have said that his smile was rare and
fascinating, a concession wrung from his dark face and calm beardless
lips that most people found irresistible, but it was odd, nevertheless,
that Lady Elfrida now for the first time felt a sudden and not
altogether unpleasant embarrassment over the very subject she had
approached with such innocent fearlessness. There was a new light in her
eyes, a fresher color in her cheeks as she turned her face--she knew not
why--away from him. But it enabled her to see a figure approaching them