"For shame, you silly boy, to speak that way! What difference does it make. You know papa has always looked on you as his son and has told you so a hundred times."
"I know, but he was not a lord then."
"Yes, he was. A man noble born is always a noble, though he may not have a title; and do you think papa is any different now from what he was a month ago? You know better, Gilbert. Besides, you cruel boy, did it make any difference with you when you came into your fine fortune and found yourself betrothed to a poor tavernkeeper's daughter? For shame! I would not have believed you so full of pride."
"That was different, Constance, for without anything you were always too good for me, and so Aunt Jane said, though I knew it before."
"No, it is not different at all. You loved me, and that was enough, you dear, silly goose, and I would not give you up for all the titles in the world. Nor would papa have me. There now, kiss me, and let us never speak of it again, for you know what you have always said, 'I have you and you have me, and what more is there?'" And the sweet creature, not waiting for me to do as she said, put her arms about my neck and kissed me on both my cheeks.
"You are an angel, Constance, and a thousand times too good for me," I answered, returning her caress; "but if your father is going to return to England at once, it will put off our marriage," I added, disturbed at the thought.
"Yes, I suppose so, though I had not thought of that."
"Why should it, though? Why can't we be married before he goes—now, if there is no objection?" I added, to clinch it.
"Why, what a hurry you are in, Gilbert," she answered, but not as if displeased at what I said.
"Yes, for if we put it off, it may be for a long time, and I see no need of such delay," I replied, thinking of my many years of waiting.