“It was to see the electro-motor in the city, was it not?”
“Good Heavens, Marian!” he said, rising, “what spirit of woman or spirit of mischief tempts you to coquet with me even now?”
“I really thought that was the reason—besides, of course, your desire to make papa amends for not having been to see him sooner after your return.”
“Marian!” he said, still remonstrantly.
She looked at him with sudden dread, and instinctively recognized the expression in his face.
“You know as well as I,” he continued, “that I went to seek his consent to our solemn league and covenant, as you call it. If that covenant were written on your heart as it is on mine, you would not inflict on me this pretty petty torture. Your father has consented: he is delighted. Now may I make a guess at that happy secret you told me of yesterday, and promised I should know one day?”
“Stop! Wait,” said Marian, very pale. “I must tell you that secret myself.”
“Hush. Do not be so moved. Remember that your confession is to be whispered to me alone.”
“Dont talk like that. It is all a mistake. My secret has nothing to do with you.” Douglas drew back a little way.
“I am engaged to be married.”