"Then you'd like me to go away to-morrow, back to London?" said Nicholas slowly.
Lily felt ashamed and sorry as she saw the disappointment in his face, but she nodded an assent.
"It must be just as you like, my dear, of course. I could hardly have hoped for anything else, perhaps." He rose to his feet again.
His face was very much overcast as he stood silent, in front of the fire.
Suddenly he threw back his head and squared his shoulders with the gesture she had so often seen, and gave a little laugh.
"Never say die, eh, Lily? You know, I shan't take no for an answer very easily. Tell me, dear, you do like me a little, don't you?"
"Very, very much."
"Then won't you trust me to look after you, and make you happier than you've ever been? I believe I could, Lily."
"I do trust you. Only—it's too serious," said Lily timidly. "I want to make sure that—that I care, too."
There was a silence. Then Nicholas Aubray said abruptly: