"It is not easy to see just at first," she admitted, "but work, like charity, begins at home. You will be a good master to your household, and will take an active interest in the estate. You will be so anxious to make the tenants happier in their respective stations that you will be surprised to find how many things go to make up their lives. Life is a big bundle of little things, you know, not a little bundle of big ones. If you really set your heart upon doing good you will never stop for lack of something to do. That is a wonderful thought, Ralph: there is no end to the good you can do in the world."
"Go on," he said tenderly; "go on, dear, good little woman!"
"That is only thinking of your life at home," said Gwendolen; "but there are wider interests outside. I should like you to make a name for yourself in the great world; it might be in philanthropy, it might be in politics. I'm often sorry you have no profession, but the world has always need of good men, and I won't let you hold wool for me while the world wants one pair of honest hands. Oh! Ralph, wouldn't that be more worth while than idling your life away, even if it could always be like this?"
"Much more worth while," he answered gravely. "You have made me happy; you will make me good; you may make me famous. That is a great deal for one little woman to do for a man. What am I to do in return for you?"
"Only love me," she said. "Love me always as you do now; never any less tenderly or truly, even when the other interests are nearer than they are to-night. What more can you do than give me love—the best thing in the world?"
"I think I may safely promise that," Ralph said, and his deep voice quivered. What had he done that Providence should heap blessings on him so lavishly? For what had already been bestowed upon him he could never show sufficient gratitude, and now there was the crowning gift of all—the love of a pure and beautiful girl, whom he knew he had loved all his life.
Gwendolen lay back in one of the deck chairs, and Ralph, leaning against the wooden railing, feasted his eyes upon the picture that she made. In a dress of white mousseline-de-soie, trimmed with rare point lace, she looked ethereally beautiful in this setting of coloured lamps and lovely flowers. Her hands were clasped upon her lap, and the moonlight caught the diamonds in the ring that he had given her, and even sought out the little diamond drop that did duty as an earring. Against the scarlet cushions on which she reclined her fair skin showed like ivory, and Ralph was filled with something akin to amazement that this incarnation of all that was sweet and lovely in English womanhood would soon be his to have and to hold for ever.
Her eyes, large, brown, and true, were fixed steadfastly on him, and found no less pleasure in what they saw than his did. In his evening dress Ralph looked taller than the six feet that he actually measured; fair hair curled crisply over a sun-tanned face, in every line of which frank candour was written, and his athletic figure was graceful in every involuntary pose. Gwendolen had reason to be proud of her lover as he thus stood silhouetted against the moonlit sky, and she made no secret of it to herself that she found pleasure in his unconscious show of great strength in restraint. He could kill her with so little effort of those well-shaped, nervous hands, and yet one look from her could make his whole frame tremble.
So in silence they communed together, as is the way with lovers who know that no words can express a tithe of their deep emotion. And, indeed, while lovers have eyes to see, they do not need tongues to speak. Silence is best when two hearts are in accord.
The silence was broken by Sir Geoffrey's voice talking to Mrs. Austen as they came over the velvety turf. Sir Geoffrey helped his companion on to the houseboat and followed her up the stairway.