Kitty looked up, her grey eyes wide open. If John had told her that he had given the order for a couple of crocodiles she could not have been more surprised.
"But hunting is over now; it won't begin again till next November. You will have to play lawn tennis this summer."
"I have sent to London for a racquet and shoes, and a suit of flannels."
"Goodness me.... Well, that is a surprise! But you won't want the flannels; you might play in the Carmelite's habit which came down the other day. How you do change your mind about things!"
"Do you never change your mind, Kitty?"
"Well, I don't know, but not so suddenly as you. Then you are not going to become a monk?"
"I don't know, it depends on circumstances."
"What circumstances?" said Kitty, innocently.
The words "whether you will or will not have me" rose to John's lips, but all power to speak them seemed to desert him; he had grown suddenly as weak as melting snow, and in an instant the occasion had passed. He hated himself for his weakness. The weary burden of his love lay still upon him, and the torture of utterance still menaced him from afar. The conversation had fallen. They were approaching the greenhouse, and the cats ran to meet their patron. Sammy sprang on Kitty's shoulder.
"Oh, isn't he a beauty? stroke him, do."