"Are you asleep, Helena?" said Peter's voice at last.
"Not at all."
"Then sit up, please, and listen to me."
She obeyed. Peter was standing over her, his hands on his sides, looking
very manly, and rather pale.
"Having disposed of me for the last six months--you may as well dispose
of me altogether," he said slowly. "Very well--I will go--and propose
to Jenny Dumbarton---the day after to-morrow. Her people asked me for
the week-end. I gave a shuffling answer. I'll wire to her to-morrow
that I'm coming--"
"Peter--you're a darling!" cried Helena in delight, clapping her hands.
"_Oh_!--I wish I could see Jenny's face when she opens the wire! You'll
be very good to her, Peter?"
She looked at him searchingly, stirred by one of the sudden tremors that
beset even the most well-intentioned match-maker.
Peter smiled, with a rather twisted lip, straightening his shoulders.
"I shouldn't ask any girl to marry me, that I couldn't love and honour,
not even to please you, Helena! And she knows all about you!"
"She doesn't!" said Helena, in consternation.
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