“I think I would not have known any other course to take,” replied Von Rosen.
“It was very good of you,” Annie said. She cast a little glance of admiration at him.
Von Rosen laughed. “It is not goodness which counts to one's credit when one is simply chucked into it by Providence,” he returned.
Annie laughed. “To think of your speaking of Providence as ‘chucking.’”
“It is rather awful,” admitted Von Rosen, “but somehow I never do feel as if I need be quite as straight-laced with you.”
“Mr. von Rosen, you have talked with me exactly twice, and I am at a loss as to whether I should consider that remark of yours as a compliment or not.”
“I meant it for one,” said Von Rosen earnestly. “I should not have used that expression. What I meant was I felt that I could be myself with you, and not weigh words or split hairs. A clergyman has to do a lot of that, you know, Miss Eustace, and sometimes (perhaps all the time) he hates it; it makes him feel like a hypocrite.”
“Then it is all right,” said Annie rather vaguely. She gazed up at the weave of leaves and blossoms, then down at the wavering carpet of their shadows.
“It is lovely here,” she said.
The young man looked at the slender young creature in the blue gown and smiled with utter content.