"How could I see anything? Your veil was so thick, and, besides, I never doubted the truth of——"
"Oh, that veil! What trouble I had with it!" laughs Cecil. "First I doubled it, and then nearly died with fright lest you should imagine me the Pig-faced Lady, and insist on seeing me."
"Well, and if I had?"
"Without doubt you would have fallen in love with me," coquettishly.
"Would not that have been desirable? Is it not a good thing for a man to fall in love with the woman he is going to marry?"
"Not unless the woman falls in love with him," with a little expressive nod that speaks volumes.
"Ah! true," says Sir Penthony, rather nettled.
"However, you showed no vulgar curiosity on the occasion, although I think Mr. Lowry, who supported you at the last moment, suggested the advisability of seeing your bride. Ah, that reminds me he lives near here. You will be glad to renew acquaintance with so particular a friend."
"There was nothing particular about our friendship; I met him by chance in London at the time, and—er—he did as well as any other fellow."
"Better, I should say. He is a particular friend of mine."