"Certainly, monsieur," she managed to falter, as she mechanically placed a paper-weight upon the sheet before her; then tried to smile bravely as she turned her colorless face to him to await her sentence, whatever it might be.
The man started violently as he bent his searching glance upon her.
"Ah mademoiselle, you are surely ill!" he exclaimed in a voice of alarm. "Pardon me that I have not before observed the fact. Why--why have you come to work if you are not well?"
Something in his look and tone brought the truant color back to her face in a crimson flood.
"Thank you, monsieur, but I am perfectly well."
Then, with a smile and her habitual frankness, she explained:
"I am only in suspense since, from monsieur's manner, I have inferred that something is wrong; that perhaps you may have disagreeable tidings for me."
It was now the gentleman's turn to change color and to look disturbed. Then he broke forth with characteristic impetuosity:
"Pardon--a thousand pardons, mademoiselle, if I have caused you one moment of anxiety or suffering! Yes, I have been thoughtless--I have been distrait, but not because I have any ill news to impart; but because I had decided to ask mademoiselle an important question this morning. Mademoiselle Heatherford, will you do me the honor--the supreme happiness--to become my wife?"
Mollie was stunned by this wholly unexpected contretemps, and she lifted to Monsieur Lamonti a face expressive of the blankest astonishment.
"Ah! I have taken mademoiselle entirely by surprise! I see--I understand!" he said, apologetically, though a faint smile flitted across his lips. "Pray forgive me, mon ami; but let me explain, and then I am sure you will not wonder so much. You have seen that I am a very lonely man, without kith or kin. I have nothing in life to comfort me or to throw one ray of sunshine along my path but the little Lucille. This has been so for years, but since mademoiselle came to me I have known more of enjoyment, I have had more pleasure in her society than I have experienced since I lost my dear children--Lucille's father and mother. Mademoiselle is beautiful, accomplished; she was reared for something far better than to work out a weary life at a desk. She has earned my profoundest respect, my gratitude and admiration by her many rare qualities of heart and mind, her amiable and sunny temperament and her faithfulness in my service.