"I know," said Lady Grey in her meditative way. "It wouldn't be bad, of course; but, then, Nina would never have him. She has her own story, you know."
"I know," said the duchess.
Nina, coming out of her own room to run back downstairs, ran into the arms of a man instead.
"Oh!" she cried in surprise; not in alarm.
"I saw you run away," laughed the right man's voice in her ear. "So I ran, too. Kiss me again and I'll make a bargain with you. Let me make all the love I please, and I'll promise not to speak of marriage again."
He had her locked fast against his breast. "You promise me something," she suggested. "Go to Harry—to Kneedrock, you know—and get him to tell you my story. You'll never want to marry me then; and I'll have a clear conscience."
"What rot! Fancy my fussing over your story! What do I care about your story?"
"But you must know it," she insisted, "because, you see, it will make it easier for both of us. After a while—when you've married that girl—you'll be glad that I was honest with you."
He was kissing her.
"I shall never marry the girl," he declared. "I shall marry you."