The next morning, about an hour after breakfast, Mr. Du Brant proposed to Olive.  He had received a letter the day before which made it probable that he might be recalled to Washington before the time which had been fixed for the end of his visit at Broadstone, and he consequently did not wish to defer for a moment longer than was necessary this most important business of his life.  He told Miss Asher that he had never truly loved before; which was probably correct; and that as she had raised his mind from the common things of earth, upon which it had been accustomed to grovel, she had made a new man of him in an astonishingly short time; which, it is likely, was also true.

He assured her that without any regard to outside circumstances, he could not live without her.  If at any other time he had allowed his mind to dwell for a moment upon matrimony, he had thought of family, position, wealth, social station, and all that sort of thing, but now he thought of nothing but her, and he came to offer her his heart.  In fact, the man was truly and honestly in love.

Inwardly Olive smiled.  “I can not ask him,” she said to herself, “to say this again every day before dinner.  He hasn’t the wit of Claude Locker, and would not be able to vary his remarks; but I can not blast his hopes too suddenly, for, if I do that, he will instantly go away, and it would not be treating Mrs. Easterfield properly if I were to break up her party without her knowledge.  But I will talk to her about it.  And now for him.—­Mr. Du Brant,” she said aloud, speaking in English, although he had proposed to her in French, because she thought she could make her own language more impressive, “it is a very serious thing you have said to me, and I don’t believe you have had time enough to think about it properly.  Now don’t interrupt.  I know exactly what you would say.  You have known me such a little while that even if your mind is made up it can not be properly made up, and therefore, for your own sake, I am going to give you a chance to think it all over.  You must not say you don’t want to, because I want you to; and when you have thought, and thought, and know yourself better—­now don’t say you can not know yourself better if you have a thousand years in which to consider it—­for though you think that it is true it is not”

“And if I rack my brains and my heart,” interrupted Mr. Du Brant, “and find out that I can never change nor feel in any other way toward you than I feel now, may I then——­”

“Now, don’t say anything about that,” said Olive.  “What I want to do now is to treat you honorably and fairly, and to give you a chance to withdraw if, after sober consideration, you think it best to do so.  I believe that every young man who thinks himself compelled to propose marriage in such hot haste ought to have a chance to reflect quietly and coolly, and to withdraw if he wants to.  And that is all, Mr. Du Brant.  I must be off this minute, for Mrs. Easterfield is over there waiting for me.”