and you. Agatha said to ask you if I'd better speak to Delia now."

"My dear Cluny, are you very much in love?"

"That sounds religious, doesn't it--a kind of Nonconformist business?
I think she's the very finest. A fellow'd hold himself up, 'd be a deuce
of a swell--and, hang it all, I hate breakfasting alone!"

"Yes, yes, Cluny; but what about a pew in church, with regular
attendance, and a justice of the peace, and little Cluny Vosses on the
carpet?"

Cluny's face went crimson.

"I say, Belward, I've seen It all, of course; I know It backwards, and
I'm not squeamish, but that sounds--flippant-that, with her."

Gaston reached out and caught the boy's shoulder. "Don't do it, Cluny.
Spare yourself. It couldn't come off. Agatha knows that, I fancy. She
is a little sportsman. I might let you go and speak; but I think my
chances are better than yours, Cluny. Hadn't you better let me try
first? Then, if I fail, your chances are still the same, eh?"

Cluny gasped. His warm face went pale, then shot to purple, and finally
settled into a grey ruddiness. "Belward," he said at last, "I didn't
know; upon my soul, I didn't know, or I'd have cut off my head first."

"My dear Cluny, you shall have your chance; but let me go first, I'm
older."