"Why, then," I answered, "for your sake there is but one of two courses that I can honourably adopt. I must either leave you at once or marry you at the—the first opportunity."
"Marry me!" she breathed. "Marry—me?"
"Exactly!" said I, folding my arms and staring down into the stream in a very determined fashion. At this, she sat so very still and silent that at last I ventured to glance up, to find her regarding me great-eyed. Then, all at once, to my indignant surprise, she began to laugh, but ceased as suddenly, and I wondered to see her eyes brimming with tears.
"But I—don't love you, and you don't love me—and never can!" said she at last.
"No!" I answered. "Nevertheless, my honour demands it!"
"What is honour?" she questioned wistfully.
"It is another name for duty!" I answered. "And my duty is to guard you from all evil or suspicion of evil."
"What evil, Peregrine?"
"The evil of vile tongues."
"But they can't make us evil, whatever they say of us."