"It is so much my home that I don't count it at all. It is more like home than Marsh House, both for father and for me."
Later, when the pony-carriage was taking aunt and niece along the road to Matcham, Suzette said suddenly, after a silence—
"Auntie, would it be a shock to your nerves if I were to tell you something that happened to-day."
"My nerves are very strong, Suzie. What kind of thing was it? and did it concern Mr. Carew par exemple?"
"How clever you are at guessing! Yes, it was Mr. Carew. He proposed to me."
"And of course you accepted him."
"Of course! Oh, auntie! what do you think I am made of? I have only known him about two months."
"What of that? If you had been brought up in the French fashion—and a very sensible fashion it is, to my thinking—you would have only seen him two or three times before you marched up to the altar with him. Surely you did not reject him?"
"I may not have said positively no; but I told him that it was much too soon—that I could not possibly love him after such a short acquaintance, and that, if we were to go on being friends, he must never speak of such a thing again."
"Never!"