"
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."
Mr. Carruthers looked almost relieved. It was strange.
"The old wretch! Nice company my aunt seems to have kept!" he exclaimed.
"Could she not take better care of you than that--to let you be insulted
by her guests?"
"I don't think Lord Bentworth meant to insult me.
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