“And I'm not going to destroy your illusion by telling you her real opinion of you,” Margaret retorted.
Henderson begged to know what it was, but Margaret evaded the question by new raillery. What did she care at the moment what Carmen thought of Henderson? What—did either of them care what they were saying, so long as there was some personal flavor in the talk! Was it not enough to talk to each other, to see each other?
As we sat afterwards upon the piazza with our cigars, inhaling the odor of the apple blossoms, and yielding ourselves, according to our age, to the influence of the mild night, Margaret was in the high spirits which accompany the expectation of bliss, without the sobering effect of its responsibility. Love itself is very serious, but the overture is full of freakish gayety. And it was all gayety that night. We all constituted ourselves a guard of honor to Miss Forsythe and Margaret when they went to their cottage, and there was a merry leave-taking in the moonlight. To be sure, Margaret walked with Henderson, and they lagged a little behind, but I had no reason to suppose that they were speaking of the stars, or that they raised the ordinary question of their being inhabited. I doubt if they saw the stars at all. How one remembers little trifles, that recur like the gay bird notes of the opening scenes that are repeated in the tragedy of the opera! I can see Margaret now, on some bantering pretext, running back, after we had said good-night, to give Henderson the blush-rose she had worn in her hair. How charming the girl was in this freakish action!
“Do you think he is good enough for her?” asked my wife, when we were alone.
“Who is good enough for whom?” I said, a yawn revealing my want of sentiment.
“Don't be stupid. You are not so blind as you pretend.”
“Well, if I am not so blind as I pretend, though I did not pretend to be blind, I suppose that is mainly her concern.”
“But I wish she had cared for Lyon.”
“Perhaps Lyon did not care for her,” I suggested.
“You never see anything. Lyon was a noble fellow.”