"What!" I exclaimed in astonishment. "Don't you think so yourself?"
"On the contrary," replied Basil, with that sad patient smile of his, "I am perfectly convinced that she will say No."
I did not pursue the conversation, for my surprise at his opinion had by this time disappeared. It occurred to me that after all it was not unnatural in a man who had conceived so exalted an estimate of Eleanor's character. No doubt he thought her too proud to incur the suspicion which might attach to her motives in accepting him after this accession to his fortunes. I felt sure, however, that he was mistaken, and it was therefore with renewed and much increased surprise that I read the letter which he placed in my hand with quiet triumph a few days afterwards.
It was a refusal. Eleanor thanked him for his renewal of his proposal, said she should always feel proud of having won the affection of so accomplished a man, but that having carefully examined her own heart, she felt that she did not love him enough to marry him.
Basil, I feel sure, was as fond of my cousin as it was in his nature to be of anybody; but he was evidently much less disappointed by her rejection than pleased with the verification of his forecast. I confess I was puzzled at its success.
"How did you know she would refuse you?" I asked. "I must say that I thought her sufficiently alive to her own interests to accept you."
Basil gently shook his head.
"But I suppose you thought that she would reject you for fear of being considered mercenary."
Basil still continued to shake his head, but now with a provokingly enigmatic smile.
