"They will be married,—of course."
"Do you think so? I am sure Lady Fawn doesn't think so."
"What Lady Fawn thinks on such a matter cannot be helped. When a man asks a woman to marry him, and she accepts, the natural consequence is that they will be married. Don't you think so?"
"I hope so,—sometimes," said Lucy, with her two hands joined upon his arm, and hanging to it with all her little weight.
"You really do hope it?" he said.
"Oh, I do; you know I do. Hope it! I should die if I didn't hope it."
"Then why shouldn't she?" He asked his question with a quick, sharp voice, and then turned upon her for an answer.
"I don't know," she said, very softly, and still clinging to him. "I sometimes think there is a difference in people."
"There is a difference; but, still, we hardly judge of people sufficiently by our own feelings. As she accepted him, you may be sure that she wishes to marry him. She has more to give than he has."
"And I have nothing to give," she said.