"Magda, I want my reward."
She raised her eyes to his face, a deep flush suffused her cheek, and then faded, leaving her somewhat paler than before.
"Thy reward, Arthur? And what is that?"
"Nothing less than thyself, my beloved," he answered, with a passionate tenderness. "I have thy heart, thy love; these have been enough this long while. Now I want thee, thine own self. Why should we wait longer? Art thou not ready to give thyself to me--now?"
She let her lover draw her close to his side. She looked up at him, and saw that his face was grave and pale. This gravity had grown upon him of late, and she saw that lines of anxiety had begun to appear on his brow, which had not been there six months ago. Her woman's instinct of seeking to comfort and support came instantly to her help.
"I will do all that thou dost wish of me, Arthur. If thou hast some trouble, let me share it. A wife should be the helpmeet of her husband in all things. If I am soon to be that, let me begin mine office now."
He bent his head and kissed her, and drawing her hand through his arm, began pacing to and fro in the budding nut walk, where the tender flickering green of early springtide was shimmering in the golden sunlight.
"My Magda, I have been thinking much of late. I have many plans, and some of them must needs be carried out in all haste. But ere I can fulfil them as I would, I must needs have my wife at my side to help and support me. There will be woman's work as well as man's, and such work as thou dost love."
"Tell me," she said, lifting her eyes to his face.
"Magda, thou dost know that tomorrow there will be a form of trial, and Anthony Dalaber and others will make submission, be condemned to do penance, and in a few days will fulfil that penance, and then be restored to communion with the church, and to liberty and life?"