"Claudine has a good education," he said, coldly, "yet she is hardly fitted to be my wife."
"I daresay it is Rose."
"It is not Rose," said Agapit; and rendered desperate by the knowledge that he must not raise his voice, must not seem excited, must not stand too close to her, lest he attract the attention of some of the people at a little distance from them, and yet that he must snatch this, the golden moment, to press his suit upon her, he crammed both hands in his coat pockets, and roamed distractedly around the square of grass.
"Do I know her?" asked Bidiane when, after a time, he came back to the hammock.
"A little,—not thoroughly. You do not appreciate her at her full value."
"Well," said Bidiane, resignedly, "I give it up. I daresay I will find out in time. I can't go over the names of all the girls on the Bay—I wish I knew what it is that keeps our darling Rose and Mr. Nimmo apart."
"I wish I could tell you."
"Is it something that can be got over?"
"Yes."
She swung herself more vigorously in her delight. "If they could only marry, I would be willing to die an old maid."