"And I'm not quite twenty-one." A sudden dimple appeared in the cheek
nearest to him. "Fancy me getting married!" said Chris, with a chuckle.
"I can't imagine it, can you?"

"You will soon get used to the idea," he said. "Anyhow, there is nothing
in it to frighten you--that is, if you marry the right man."

She nodded thoughtfully, her brief mirth gone. "But, Mr. Mordaunt, how is
one to know?"

He leaned towards her. "I believe I can teach you," he said, "if you will
let me try."

She slipped a shy hand into his. "But you won't ask me to marry you for a
long while yet, will you?" she said pleadingly.

"Not until you have quite made up your mind to be engaged to me," said
Mordaunt.

She looked at him quickly. "No, not then either. Not--not till I say you
may."

He laughed a little; but there was something very protecting,
infinitely reassuring, in his grasp. "And if I accept that condition,"
he said--"it's a very despotic one, by the way--but if I accept it,
may I consider that you are engaged to me?"

Chris hesitated.

"Not if I tell you that I love you," he said, "that I want you more than