She did not start, and scarcely blushed, but looked at him a little timidly.
“Yes, if you wish it,” she said in a low voice.
The “if you wish it” smote him keenly.
“I do wish it,” he said. “We have not been engaged long, I know, and, if you would rather wait, we will do so. It shall be exactly as you wish. It ought to be so. But there is no reason why we should wait until the autumn or the winter. My father is very anxious that the wedding should take place—he is very fond of you, as you know, and is looking forward to the day when he can really call you his daughter.”
“And I am very fond of him,” said Esmeralda. “I would do anything to please him.”
“But you must please yourself,” said Trafford. “We all think of you and seek your happiness.”
“Very well,” said Esmeralda. “I will be married whenever you please.”
“You are very good to me!” he said, and, under cover of stroking her horse’s mane, he touched her hand.
Then she blushed, for his lightest caress had power to thrill her.