"Listen," he said, and he flung himself into an arm-chair. "You can marry
me, and I will take you to Paris, or where you want, and I won't order you
about--only I shall keep the other beasts of men from looking at you."

But I told him at once that I thought that would be very dull. "I have
never had the chance of any one looking at me," I said, "and I want to
feel what it is like. Mrs. Carruthers always assured me I was very pretty,
you know, only she said that I was certain to come to a bad end, because
of my type, unless I got married at once, and then if my head was screwed
on it would not matter; but I don't agree with her."

He walked up and down the room impatiently.

"That is just it," he said. "I would rather be the first--I would rather
you began by me. I am strong enough to ward off the rest."

"What does 'beginning by you' mean?" I asked, with great candor. "Old Lord
Bentworth said I should begin with him, when he was here to shoot
pheasants last autumn; he said it could not matter, he was so old; but I
didn't----"

Mr. Carruthers bounded up from his chair.

"You didn't what! Good Lord! what did he want you to do?" he asked,
aghast.

"Well," I said, and I looked down for a moment; I felt stupidly shy. "He
wanted me to kiss him."