“Oh, Dolly!” said Lal, and bent down quickly to kiss her. The shy, swift, furtive movement brought tears to Dolly’s eyes. There was reverence in his touch, there was even awe; and so, for the first time, Dolly tasted the grace of true humility.
“Well”—she picked up the thread of her confession with a sigh—“I suppose it has to be told. As I say, I could not see what to do; and I did not care myself; and Bernard would advise me till I was mazed with thinking. So I ended by leaving it to chance.”
“And how did you settle it?”
“I said I would accept the one who reached me first.”
“I reached you first, Dolly.”
“And do you want more of me than you’ve got?” Dolly said, turning on him her face, full of sweetness and fire.
“What have I got? A bare ‘Yes,’ and nothing more!”
“Your own fault, for asking such a question in such a place. I longed to sink into the ground. Besides, I gave you the promise of my marriage vows; isn’t that enough?”
“What marriage vows?”
“Love; honour; obedience.”