"Happy tree! And I never thought it a poetic growth—the flowers are so sticky! Now Unity shall plant one at Greenwood."
"'Unity'! Isn't it sweet to say just 'Unity'?"
The other laughed again. "I think you are a very satisfactory lover! And when's the marriage, Fair?"
"Not for a whole year—she won't marry me for a whole year to come!"
"Why, that's too long," said the elder kindly. "What reason?"
"Time to say farewell. Once she's married, she will never see Unity Dandridge again!"
Both laughed, but there was much tenderness in their laughter. "Oh, she's individual!" said Ludwell. "Even when you add the Cary, she'll be Unity Dandridge still. A year! Perhaps she may relent."
"I've given my word not to ask her."
"Ah!—well, a year's not so long, Fair. She's a lovely witch—she'll charm the hours away. This time next year how gay we'll make the old house!"
The younger paced the room. "I can't go to bed. Michaelmas—Christmas—St. Valentine's—Easter—the Fourth—then August again. Twelve months!"