"Do your father and mother really approve?" she asked at last as she disengaged herself, and her hands went up to her hot cheeks, and then to her hair, to smooth it back into something like order.
"Let us go and see." He raised her joyously to her feet.
She looked at him a little wistfully.
"I'm rather afraid of them, Edward. You must tell them not to expect too much. And I shall always—want to be myself."
"Darling! what else could they, could any one want for you—or for me!" The tone showed him a little startled, perhaps stung, by her words. And he added, with a sudden flush:
"Of course I know what Coryston will say to you. He seems to think us all hypocrites and tyrants. Well—you will judge. I won't defend my father and mother. You will soon know them. You will see what their lives are."
He spoke with feeling. She put her hand in his, responding.
"You'll write to Corry—won't you? He's a dreadful thorn in all our sides; and yet—" Her eyes filled with tears.
"You love him?" he said, gently. "That's enough for me."
"Even if he's rude and violent?" she pleaded.