“I daresay, my darling,—but—but I have more tenderness for marriage than I had.”
Beatrice’s black eyes just flickered with amusement.
“Yes; but priests!” she said.
“Yes—even priests—” said Ralph, smiling back.
Beatrice turned to a chair and sat down.
“I suppose I must not ask any questions,” she said, glancing up for a moment at Ralph’s steady eyes. She thought he looked a little uneasy still.
“Oh! I scarcely know,” said Ralph; and he took a turn across the room and came back. She waited, knowing that she had already put her question, and secretly pleased that he knew it, and was perplexed by it.
“I scarcely know,” he said again, standing opposite her. “Well,—yes—all will know it soon.”
“Oh! I can wait till then,” said Beatrice quickly, not sure whether she were annoyed or not by being told a secret of such a common nature. Ralph glanced at her, not sure either.
“I am afraid—” he began.