"And you will find Mr. Bradley so sceptical that you will be obliged to
defer your going," said Mrs. Bradley, triumphantly. "Come, Louise, we
must not forget that we have still Mr. Mainwaring's present comfort to
look after; that Minty has basely deserted us, and that we ourselves
must see that the last days of our guest beneath our roof are not
remembered for their privation."

She led Louise away with a half-mischievous suggestion of maternal
propriety, and left Mainwaring once more alone on the veranda.

He had done it! Certainly she must have understood his meaning, and
there was nothing left for him to do but to acquaint Bradley with his
intentions to-night, and press her for a final answer in the morning.
There would be no indelicacy then in asking her for an interview more
free from interruption than this public veranda. Without conceit, he
did not doubt what the answer would be. His indecision, his sudden
resolution to leave her, had been all based upon the uncertainty of HIS
own feelings, the propriety of HIS declaration, the possibility of some
previous experience of hers that might compromise HIM. Convinced by
her unembarrassed manner of her innocence, or rather satisfied of her
indifference to Richardson's gossip, he had been hurried by his feelings
into an unexpected avowal. Brought up in the perfect security of his
own social position, and familiarly conscious--without vanity--of
its importance and power in such a situation, he believed, without
undervaluing Louise's charms or independence, that he had no one else
than himself to consult. Even the slight uneasiness that still pursued
him was more due to his habitual conscientiousness of his own intention
than to any fear that she would not fully respond to it. Indeed, with
his conservative ideas of proper feminine self-restraint, Louise's calm