"Do not ask me—how could I tell you?"
"Say it to yourself, love—I shall see it in your dear face."
"Am I not saying it?"
Then they were silent again, walking side by side, their arms locked and pressing one another.
It began to dawn upon Orsino that a great change had come into his life, and he thought of the consequences of what he was doing. He had not said that he was happy, but in the first moment he had felt it more than she. The future, however, would not be like the present, and could not be a perpetual continuation of it. Orsino was not at all of a romantic disposition, and the practical side of things was always sure to present itself to his mind very early in any affair. It was a part of his nature and by no means hindered him from feeling deeply and loving sincerely. But it shortened his moments of happiness.
"Do you know what this means to you and me?" he asked, after a time.
Maria Consuelo started very slightly and looked up at him.
"Let us think of to-morrow—to-morrow," she said. Her voice trembled a little.
"Is it so hard to think of?" asked Orsino, fearing lest he had displeased her.
"Very hard," she answered, in a low voice.