passivity and undemonstrative attitude were a proof of her superiority;
had she blushed overmuch, cried, or thrown herself into his arms, he
would have doubted the wisdom of so easy a selection. It was true he had
known her scarcely three weeks; if he chose to be content with that, his
own accessible record of three centuries should be sufficient for her,
and condone any irregularity.

Nevertheless, as an hour slipped away and Louise did not make her
appearance, either on the veranda or in the little sitting-room off the
hall, Mainwaring became more uneasy as to the incompleteness of their
interview. Perhaps a faint suspicion of the inadequacy of her response
began to trouble him; but he still fatuously regarded it rather as
owing to his own hurried and unfinished declaration. It was true that
he hadn't said half what he intended to say; it was true that she might
have misunderstood it as the conventional gallantry of the situation,
as--terrible thought!--the light banter of the habitual love-making
American, to which she had been accustomed; perhaps even now she
relegated him to the level of Greyson, and this accounted for her
singular impassiveness--an impassiveness that certainly was singular
now he reflected upon it--that might have been even contempt. The last
thought pricked his deep conscientiousness; he walked hurriedly up and
down the veranda, and then, suddenly re-entering his room, took up a
sheet of note-paper, and began to write to her:--


"Can you grant me a few moments' interview alone? I cannot bear you
should think that what I was trying to tell you when we were interrupted
was prompted by anything but the deepest sincerity and conviction,
or that I am willing it should be passed over lightly by you or be
forgotten. Pray give me a chance of proving it, by saying you will see