She sighed. “Isn’t it beautiful?” she said. “This lovely dance—these fascinating surroundings—the music—the dim lights—and—and——” She lifted her eyes to his again.
He murmured her name, threw away his cigarette, looked round to see where the other eyes in that room were, then clasped her round the waist for an instant. “Will you? Will you?” he exclaimed.
“Yes,” she replied, in a tone so faint that he barely heard.
“You have made me happy.” And he meant it.
“How satisfactory she is in every way,” he was saying to himself. “Looks, money, everything. I’m a lucky dog.” And she was saying to herself, “Countess of Frothingham! How strong and fine and simple he is. I love him!” But when he suggested speaking to her father at once she would not have it. “No—I want it to be just our secret for a little while,” she pleaded. “Don’t you?” He did not see any reason for it, but he said “Yes” with a surface reflection of her earnestness.
“It’s a pity the world ever should know anything about it, don’t you think so?” she went on.
“I’m very impatient to claim my countess,” he answered.
She liked the “countess,” but the “my” jarred slightly in her sensitive ear—she was “acquiring” an earl, not he a countess.
“Not too long,” he remonstrated. It was all very well for her to be romantic—he wouldn’t have liked it if he had not inspired some romance. But why should either of them wish to delay ratifying the bargain that was the real purpose in view? Certainly he wished no delay. And there was much to be arranged—settlements, a trousseau, a host of time-consuming preliminaries. Not a day should be lost in getting under way. His creditors, impatiently awaiting the event of his American adventure, might become ugly. He hated ugly letters and cablegrams almost as much as he hated ugly “scenes.” No, he felt strongly on the subject of long engagements.
His heart was full of her beauty—he had drunk a good deal at supper half an hour before. His head was full of her dowry—he never drank so much that he forgot business. “How could I evade if anyone should congratulate me?” he asked. And then he wished he had not said it, but had made that the excuse for not obeying her.