"Let it."
"Well, I don't think you can prevent it from being one. Peonies will be peonies."
"Who wants to interfere with their rights? and what have peonies to do with our discourse, unless that you look very like one just now? Oh, Daisy! are you sure you like me well enough to marry me?"
"Don't think, if ever I do such a thing, it shall be for liking,
Cornelius."
"What for, then?"
"To prevent you from marrying any one else."
He still looked uneasy, and yet he might have known that, though it is sometimes very hard to know where love is, it is always wonderfully easy to know where he is not.
"What would you have?" I asked, a little impatiently. "Is it the love, honour, and obey that troubles you? Well, I have loved you all my life, or very nearly. I honour you more than living creature; as for obedience, I could obey you all the day long, Cornelius."
"Do you mean to turn out a Griseldis?" he said, uneasily. "What put such ideas into your head?"
"Remembrance of the time—"