"They'll wonder what's become of us, and tea will be ready, and Mrs.Hope doesn't like to be kept waiting." "Never mind," said Lord Bidborough, his tone somewhat desperate.

"I've got something I want to say to you, and this may be my only chance.
Jean, could you ever--I mean, d'you think it possible--oh, Jean, will you marry me ?" Jean backed away from him, her mouth open, her eyes round with astonishment.

She was too much surprised to be anything but utterly natural.
"Are you asking me to marry you?
But how _ludicrous_!" The answer restored them both to their senses.
Lord Bidborough laughed ruefully and said, "Well, that's not a pretty way to take a proposal," while Jean, flushed with shame at her own rudeness, and finding herself suddenly rather breathless, gasped out, "But you shouldn't give people such frights.

How could I know you were going to say anything so silly?
And it's my first proposal, and I've _got on goloshes_!" "Oh, Jean! What a blundering idiot I am! I might have known it was a wrong moment, but I'm hopelessly inexperienced, and, besides, I couldn't risk waiting; I so seldom see you alone.

Didn't you see, little blind Jean, that I was head over ears in love with you?
The first night I came to The Rigs and you spoke to me in your singing voice I knew you were the one woman in the world for me." "No," said Jean.