She pointed, but Marley did not look in the direction of the trees; he looked at her finger. It was so small, so round, so white. He bent forward, and kissed the finger.
“Oh, but you must look where I’m pointing,” said Lavinia.
They drew closely together. Marley took Lavinia’s hand and they stood long in silence.
“We could have a country home there,” Marley said after a while, “with a hedge about it and stables and horses and dogs. It would be close to town; I could go in in the morning and out again in the afternoon.”
“And I could drive you in, and then come for you in the afternoon—when court adjourned.”
“Oh, I would have a man to drive me,” said Marley.
“But couldn’t I ride in beside you?”
“Yes; you could sit beside me, on the back seat; we’d have an open carriage.”
“A victoria!” exclaimed Lavinia. “It would be the only one in Macochee!”
“Is that what they call them?”