‘Or? probably and?’ suggested Arthur. ‘How does that go on?’
‘Take care,’ said Theodora, peeping out beyond the shadow of his broad shoulder. ‘Tis under the strictest seal of confidence; she asked my advice as soon as she had done it.’
‘What! has she accepted him!’ said Violet. ‘Has it come to that?’
‘Ay; and now she wants to know whether people will think it odd and improper. Let them think, I say.’
‘A piece of luck for her,’ said Arthur; ‘better marry a coal-heaver than lead her present life.’
‘Yes; and Harrison is an educated man though a coxcomb, and knows she condescends.’
‘But why are they waiting!’ asked Violet.
‘Because she dares not tell my aunt. She trembles and consults, and walks behind my aunt’s chair in the garden, exchanging glances with Harrison over her head, while he listens to discourses on things with hard names. The flutter and mystery seem to be felicity, and, if they like it, ‘tis their own concern.’
‘Now I know why Miss Piper told me Miss Martindale was so considerate,’ said Violet.
What had become of the estrangement! Arthur had forgotten it, Violet had been but half-conscious of it, even while uniting them; Theodora thought all was owing to his being at home, and she knew not who had restored him.