"By this particular boat! If we had not, Evelyn and I might never—"
Jem paused, and Jean repeated—"Evelyn!"
"I may call her so now."
"Then it is that! I almost fancied—and yet—O Jem, I am glad!—Glad somebody is happy! And Cyril would have been so pleased."
"Will be—perhaps. We won't give up hope yet."
"I have not much left. But this—is it real? You mean it!"
"Nothing was ever more real. I don't wonder you ask the question. I keep putting it to myself. All is changed—like a bewildering dream. I didn't know what capacities for happiness I had! . . . Yes, it is real—that she loves me—better than Dutton Park."
"And you will stay in Dutton?"
"I think not. There is no need. We both long for London work; and Evelyn has more of her own than I knew. A legacy of £600 a year was left her lately by the General's brother-in-law. Marriage will not touch that. So we can afford to provide for my mother, if she likes a country home best; and somebody else will be as well fitted as I am to look after the old ladies of Dutton."
Jem could not resist the little flash of fun; but he grew instantly apologetic.