‘O yes, this marriage question,’ he added. ‘I had not forgotten it, dear Viviette—or at least only for a few minutes.’
‘Can you forget it, Swithin, for a moment? O how can you!’ she said reproachfully. ‘It is such a distressing thing. It drives away all my rest!’
‘Forgotten is not the word I should have used,’ he apologized. ‘Temporarily dismissed it from my mind, is all I meant. The simple fact is, that the vastness of the field of astronomy reduces every terrestrial thing to atomic dimensions. Do not trouble, dearest. The remedy is quite easy, as I stated in my letter. We can now be married in a prosy public way. Yes, early or late—next week, next month, six months hence—just as you choose. Say the word when, and I will obey.’
The absence of all anxiety or consternation from his face contrasted strangely with hers, which at last he saw, and, looking at the writing she held, inquired—
‘But what paper have you in your hand?’
‘A letter which to me is actually inexplicable,’ said she, her curiosity returning to the letter, and overriding for the instant her immediate concerns. ‘What does this income of six hundred a year mean? Why have you never told me about it, dear Swithin? or does it not refer to you?’
He looked at the note, flushed slightly, and was absolutely unable to begin his reply at once.
‘I did not mean you to see that, Viviette,’ he murmured.
‘Why not?’
‘I thought you had better not, as it does not concern me further now. The solicitors are labouring under a mistake in supposing that it does. I have to write at once and inform them that the annuity is not mine to receive.’