“I don’t think you have,” said Aimée—conscious, however, that in the multiplicity of statements which had been made to her, the particular statement relative to Mr. Kyrle’s whereabouts might not have received due attention.
“He is there,” said Fanny with a comprehensive wave of her hand toward the Atlantic Ocean. “Did I not tell you that he is in a yacht?”
“Oh! has he a yacht?” cried Aimée; “and can you refuse to go with him?”
“I might not refuse if it was his own yacht—for a man must be very rich to afford a yacht—but it is not his own. It is borrowed from a friend ‘for this occasion only,’” said Fanny, with a slight laugh. “His plan is certainly very well arranged. He borrows the yacht, as I have said, runs down here, lies off the inlet and brings a boat up to St. Augustine for me—I step into it, we return to the yacht, run to Key West or Pensacola and are married, then cruise for a month among the West Indies. How would you like such a programme as that, Aimée?”
“How would I like it?” repeated Aimée. Words were evidently too weak to express her sentiments; but she clasped her hands and her eyes shone like stars. “It would be glorious!” she cried, with a thrill in her voice. “I never read of anything more beautiful. I don’t believe, I can’t believe, but that you mean to go.”
“You may believe it, then,” said Miss Berrien, shortly. “It is very well to be romantic when you don’t have to pay a price for romance; but when you do, and it is such a heavy one as a life of poverty—sailing and love-making can’t last forever, and what is to come after? I asked myself that question, and the answer made me stop.”
“I wonder if it was not Mr. Meredith who made you stop?” said Aimée. “I saw the diamonds he brought you; but, though diamonds are very pretty, they are not as good as a lover like young Lochinvar.”
“You will change your mind when you are a little older, my dear. Lovers are plenty, but diamonds—However, it is not certain that I will take them. It is only certain that I can not throw away everything by going with Lennox to-night. He must wait.”
“But perhaps he won’t wait,” said Aimée. “If he is so impetuous, perhaps he will say that it must be this night or never.”
“There is no danger that he will say anything of the kind,” replied Fanny, with a comfortable assurance of her own power. “He will never give me up until I am married to somebody else. He makes love like an angel,” she added, with a stifled sigh. “I have had a great many lovers, of course, but nobody that I ever liked half as well as Lennox. But I must not think of him; and as for seeing him—well, if I did that, I should be on board the Ariel before day. I will give my chance of a cruise over to you, Aimée.”