Rachel was bereft of speech; and yet a certain sense of relief underlay
the natural embarrassment caused by a proposal so premature and so
abrupt. Nor was the deeper emotion very difficult to analyze. Here at
last was a logical explanation of the whole behavior of this man; it was
the first that had occurred to her, and, after all, it was the only
possible one.

"I want you to be my wife," repeated Mr. Steel, with enough of respect
in his tone, yet none the less with the air of a man who is accustomed
to obtain what he wants.

And Rachel, looking at the wiry, well-knit, upright figure, and at the
fresh, elderly, but virile face, with its sombre eyes and its snowy
hair, thought once again of the ancient saw which she had quoted to
herself the night before, only to dismiss it finally from her mind. This
man was no fool, nor was he old. He might be eccentric, but he was
eminently sane; he might be elderly, in the arbitrary matter of mere
years; but an old man he was not, and never would be with those eyes.

She tried to tell him it was absurd, but before the word could come she
saw that it was the last one to apply; he was so confident, so quiet, so
sure of himself, if not of Rachel. At last she told him she could not
think of it, he had seen nothing of her, and could not possibly care for
her, even supposing that she cared for him.

"By 'caring,'" said he, "do you mean being 'in love,' as they say, and
all that?"

"Naturally," said Rachel, with great ease and irony, but with a new
misgiving every moment.