Tacita’s lips parted. “Shall I tell him that I like him more and more?” she thought. “No. Yet he must be satisfied.”
“I do not know what reply to make,” she said, somewhat breathlessly.
“Do you know what to think?” he asked.
“Oh, yes!”
“Would it pain me to know?”
“Oh, no!”
He smiled, even laughed a little; she had said, in fact, so much more than she was aware.
“Look at the college,” he said. “Iona has a plan of a house there for me.” He explained it. “She will remain till vintage time to see it well started. Will you go there and live with me, Tacita, when it is done?”
“Yes!” she said quietly, her eyes on the college.
“Will you go next Easter?” he asked, after a pause.