"Upon my soul," said Trant, "I think he is even more to be pitied than I am."
"I don't think you are to be pitied at all. What is it that you wanted to ask me?"
"What has Blake got to do with this?" he said.
Elsie flushed more deeply than before. "I would rather, if you please, that Mr. Blake should be left out of the question. I think I have said that before."
"Yes, you have. I warned you, remember. Now look here, you said I might be melodramatic. You remember what I said to you here, not very long ago? I told you that I always succeeded in what I had set my mind on."
"I remember that you threatened to carry me off, and that it wasn't quite settled whether you were to perform that feat—you'll have to have a good horse, Mr. Trant, for I am very heavy—at one of the Leichardt's Town tennis parties, or at the Government House ball, or if I am to be imprisoned in one of the Luya gorges—do you recollect that?"
"Yes, I recollect, and I meant it. I warn you. I am not a man to stand tamely by and let another man carry off the girl he loves; especially when she doesn't love that other man. You in love with Frank Hallett, that stolid lump of respectability! You are meant for something different, Elsie. You are meant for life, for adventure, for emotion. You were meant to be a poet's inspiring angel, or the brave companion of a hero's reckless deeds."
"I—I have heard something like that before," said Elsie faintly. "But it was not you who said it."
"It was Blake. And he has said it to me. Blake has got blood in his veins: he understands you. Blake and I are alike in more ways than one. We are alike anyhow in understanding you. But you weren't meant for Blake, Miss Valliant. He wouldn't marry you if he could. He has told me to 'go in and win,' and I mean to win. Before the year is out, you will be my wife."
"Indeed, Mr. Trant, that is bold prophecy; and now I think you have been melodramatic enough. Let us talk of something else."
