"So long? How long? By the by, perhaps she wouldn't; so I suppose we had better be married as soon as ever we can."
"I haven't got any clothes," says Miss Broughton; at which they both laugh gayly, as though it were the merriest jest in the world.
"You terrify me," says Branscombe. "Let me beg you will rectify such a mistake as soon as possible."
"We have been here a long time," says Georgie, suddenly, glancing at the sun, that is almost sinking out of sight behind the solemn firs.
"It hasn't been ten minutes," says Mr. Branscombe, conviction making his tone brilliant.
"Oh, nonsense!" says Georgie. "I am sure it must be quite two hours since you came."
As it has been barely one, this is rather difficult to endure with equanimity.
"How long you have found it!" he says, with some regret. He is honestly pained, and his eyes grow darker. Looking at him, she sees what she has done, and, though ignorant of the very meaning of the word "love," knows that she has hurt him more than he cares to confess.
"I have been happy,—quite happy," she says, sweetly, coloring warmly as she says it. "You must not think I have found the time you have been with me dull or dreary. Only, I am afraid Clarissa will miss me."
"I should think any one would miss you," says Dorian, impulsively. He smiles at her as he speaks; but there is a curious mingling of sadness and longing and uncertainty in his face. Laying one arm round her, with his other hand he draws her head down on his breast.