“I must beg,” continued Diana, “I must beg that you will discontinue your all-too-frequent visits here. Please do not deem me unkind, but your persecution of me⁠—I can call it nothing else⁠—is wearying⁠—and⁠—you will forgive the word⁠—tiresome. I confess I am surprised that you had not perceived your attentions to be distasteful to me.”

“Distasteful!” cried Mr. Bettison, recovering after two or three unsuccessful attempts from his speechlessness. “Do you mean what you say, Miss Diana? That you will not wed me?”

She nodded.

“Yes, Mr. Bettison, I do.”

“And that my attentions are displeasing to you! Well, Miss Beauleigh! Well, indeed!”

Diana softened a little.