"Because," she said, hardly above a whisper, "I was determined to convince myself that I hated you. But then"—
Her words faltered, yet he still did not dare to give way to the warm tide which he felt swelling up from his heart. His voice softened almost to the tone of hers.
"But then?"
The crimson stained her beautiful face, and faded.
"I think I—I kissed it," she murmured, so low that the words were mere phantoms of speech.
He tried to answer, but the words choked in his throat. He sprang forward, and gathered her into his arms. It is an art which even deacons may know by nature.
When the pair came in to luncheon an hour later, Mrs. Wilson looked up at them, and then without question turned to a servant.
"You may tell Patrick that we shan't need the carriage for the station," that sagacious woman said coolly.
Maurice was both surprised and touched by the gratification which his engagement gave to his friends. Mrs. Wilson might be expected to take satisfaction, since any woman is likely to approve of any match which she may be allowed to have a hand in promoting; the Staggchases were delighted, and Mrs. Morison received him with a kindness which moved him more than anything else. Mrs. Morison treated him much as if he were her son. She spoke wisely to him about his future, and she had a word of warning on the subject of his attitude toward religion.
"My dear Maurice," she said, after she had come to call him by that name, "let me give you a caution. The most fanatical belief is less evil than dogmatic denial. If you are really the agnostic you claim to be, your very confession that the truth is too great for human grasp binds you to respect the unknown."