XI
When Lily left Italy, it was with the definite certainty that Nicholas Aubray meant to ask her to marry him.
It appeared that he had discussed his intentions openly with Aunt Clo, who spoke of him to Lily on the evening that preceded her departure from Genazzano.
"Developments unlooked for indeed," said Aunt Clo with a whimsical smile. "But tell me—the idea does not displease you, little one?"
She looked at her niece with an air of interested enquiry as she spoke, but went on talking herself before Lily had time to reply.
"May and December, perhaps! Or so it seems to the youthful eyes of May. But there are worse alliances than that—many, many worse. And some natures, of which it seems to me, my Lily, that yours is one, demand less than others. Those are the happy ones!"
Aunt Clo sighed tempestuously and flung a hand across her eyes. It was evident that she did not count herself one of that favoured band amongst whom she assigned place to her niece.
"The temperament that seeks, and gives, passionately, is not one that I could wish you. Qui dit aimer, dit souffrir. Never were words more true! nor, perhaps, had any woman better cause than I to know it."
Miss Stellenthorpe groaned slightly and, having made the inevitable personal application so irresistible in discussing the affairs of others, was able to resume, with her quick, brilliant smile: