"But she must give it, Daisy. Does she suppose we could give each other up? You and I are not children, to be played with; to be separated without rhyme or reason."
"In a short time—I do not know how short—mamma intends to shut up The Mount and take me and Lydia to Switzerland and Italy. It may be years before we come back again, Frank; years and years. I dare say I should never see you again."
"I'm sure you speak very calmly about it, Daisy! Almost as if you liked it!"
Looking down at her he met her reproachful eyes and the sudden tears the words had called up in them.
"My darling, what is to be done? You cannot go abroad with them: you must remain in England."
"As if that would be possible!" breathed Daisy. "I have no one to stay with; no relatives, or anything. And if I had, mamma would not leave me."
"I wish I could marry you off-hand!" cried thoughtless Frank, speaking more in the impulse of the moment than with any real meaning in what he said.
Daisy sighed: and put her cheek against his arm. And what with one word and another, they both began to think it might be. Love is blind, and love's arguments, though specious, are sadly delusive. In a few minutes they had grown to think that an immediate marriage, as private as might be, was the only way to save them from perdition. That is, to preserve them one to another: and that it would be the very best mode of proceeding under their untoward lot.
"The sooner it is done, the better, Daisy," cried Frank, going in for it now with all his characteristic eagerness. "I'd say to-morrow, if I had the license, but I must get that first. I hope and trust your mother will not be very angry!"
Daisy had not lifted her face. His arm was pressed all the closer. Frank filled up an interlude by taking a kiss from the sweet lips.