"Yes, when they have a goddess born among them."
"Oh, please don't be too ridiculous. You know that I like you; but, as for loving, I must have a long, long time to think about that."
"You shall think as long as you like; so long as you do not withdraw your friendship. I cannot live without you."
"Why should I cease to be your friend? Only promise that you will never again talk, or behave, as foolishly as you have done this afternoon."
"I promise, solemnly promise; until you give me leave to be foolish," he added, with a touch of tenderness.
He felt that he had been precipitate; that he might, by this temerity, have brought upon himself banishment from the Eden in which he was so happy. He had been over bold in thinking that the time which had sufficed for the growth of passionate love on his part was enough to make this charming girl as fond of him as he was of her. He was ashamed of his presumption. The degrees of their merit were so different; she a being whom to know was to love; he a very commonplace young man.
Suzette was quite as easy in her manner with him after that little outbreak as she had been before. He had promised not to renew the attack, and in her simple truthfulness she believed all promises sacred between well-bred people.
Mrs. Mornington dropped in at teatime, ready to drive her niece home. It was a common thing now for Suzette to spend the whole day at Discombe, playing classical duets with Mrs. Wornock, or sitting quietly by her side reading or musing while she played the organ. The girl's religious feeling gave significance to that noble music of the old German and Italian masses which to other hearers were only music. The acquaintance between the elder woman and the younger had ripened by this time into a friendship which was not without affection.
"Mrs. Wornock is my second aunt, and Discombe is my second home," said Suzette, explaining the frequency of her visits.
"And the Grove, does not that count as home?" asked Mrs. Mornington, with an offended air.