“Will you come and see my abode? You have seen my sitting-room, but Mrs. Grant has it all done up, and so you must pay me a visit.”
“Do you remember one day when I went to have tea with you, and Mrs. Carson disappointed us? How terrified I was that someone might see me, though you told the minion to say you were out. Every time the bell rang I thought it was a man who would force his way in; do you remember?”
“Do I not remember? Put on your hat.”
“I will change my dress. You will wait?”
“For ever,” with a smile and a glance.
So far they both felt matrimony a success; desire had not failed. When would it?
Joy was clouded by apprehension in her mind; in his there was no doubt, no fear. He knew himself better than she did. They walked together to his rooms. He showed her all over them. His housekeeper, Mrs. Grant, welcomed her. She too had arranged flowers in plenty.
“How will you have this room furnished?” he asked, as he threw open the door. It was a large room, the best one in a set of four. It had been his work-room, but he had given it up for another, and a dark one.
“This is to be your room when you come to stay.”
She smiled. There was a touch of genius in his suggestion—more a touch of impropriety—which appealed to her.