'Why not? Why not let things go on just as they are?'
'And live here with you, I and Julia?'
'Yes; why not?'
'We should bore you; you want to write your plays, you'd get tired of me.'
'Your being here would not prevent my writing my plays. I have been thinking all the while of asking you to remain, but was afraid you would not care to live here.'
'Not care to live here! But you'll get tired of us; we might quarrel.'
'No; we shall never quarrel. You will be doing me a great favour by remaining. Just fancy living alone in this great house, not a soul to speak to all day! I'm sure I should end by going out and hanging myself on one of those trees.'
'You wouldn't do that, would you?'
Hubert laughed. 'You and Mrs. Bentley will be doing me a great favour by remaining. If you go away I shall be robbed right and left, the gardens will go to rack and ruin, and when you come down here you won't know the place, and then, perhaps, we shall quarrel.'
'I shouldn't like Ashwood to go to rack and ruin—and my poor flowers! And I'm sure you'd forget to feed the swans. If you did that, I could not forgive you.'