Clarissa blushes very much, and Georgie, going up to her, kisses her heartily.
"It is altogether quite too nice," says Mrs. Branscombe, with tears in her eyes.
"If you don't look out, Scrope, she will kiss you too," says Dorian. "Look here, it is nearly six o'clock, and dinner will be at seven. Come back, you two, and dine with us."
"I should like to very much," says Clarissa, "as papa is in town."
"Well, then, come," says Georgie, tucking her arm comfortably into hers, "and we'll send you home at eleven."
"I hope you will send me home too," says Scrope, meekly.
"Yes, by the other road," says Mrs. Branscombe, with a small grimace. And then she presses Clarissa's arm against her side, and tells her, without the slightest provocation, that she is a "darling," and that everything is quite, quite, quite TOO delicious!
That evening, in the library, when Georgie and Dorian are once more alone, Branscombe, turning to her, takes her in his arms.
"You are quite happy?" he asks, questioningly. "You have no regrets now?"