On the spur of the moment, Marjorie could think of no objection to the Water Garden, and he led her off.
"I often think of that jolly walk we had last summer," said Mr. Magnet, "and how you talked about your work at Oxbridge."
Marjorie fell into a sudden rapture of admiration for a butterfly.
Twice more was Mr. Magnet baffled, and then they came to the little pool of water lilies with its miniature cascade of escape at the head and source of the Water Garden. "One of Lady Petchworth's great successes," said Mr. Magnet.
"I suppose the lotus is like the water-lily," said Marjorie, with no hope of staving off the inevitable——
She stood very still by the little pool, and in spite of her pensive regard of the floating blossoms, stiffly and intensely aware of his relentless regard.
"Marjorie," came his voice at last, strangely softened. "There is something I want to say to you."
She made no reply.
"Ever since we met last summer——"
A clear cold little resolution not to stand this, had established itself in Marjorie's mind. If she must decide, she would decide. He had brought it upon himself.