It was more of an effort with Theophil, and the voice that made home for Jenny had a strange sound in his own ears, as though it were still talking to Isabel; but the effort was soon made, and though Jenny teased him a little and said she believed he had quite lost his, that was to say her, heart to Isabel, of course she believed no such thing. Doubt is too terrible a toy for true love to play with. You only dare to doubt as you must sometimes face the fear of death.
"I wish next October were here," said Jenny, artlessly; "it seems such a long time to wait to see her again."
Did Theophil wish the same? He hardly knew.
"Distance is such a silly thing," went on Jenny. "It seems to have been invented just to separate those who want to be together. It seems so arbitrary, so unnecessary."
"I suppose death is a form of distance," said Theophil, irrelevantly.
"Life too, I'm afraid," said Jenny.
"Yes, indeed, life too," assented Theophil, dreamily.
"If I were to die," said Jenny, suddenly, "would you still do what we said?"
"Why do you ask that, dear? You're a very serious little woman this morning. Of course I would. You know. But why do you ask me now?"
"Oh, only, dear, because I wonder whether we really ought to. Somehow Isabel's visit has made me feel that life is a bigger, fuller thing than I had dreamed, and that men like you, at all events, have duties towards it even greater than your love for a little thing like me."