Lydia.
[Laying down her prayer-book and just touching them.] I haven’t the—the ghost of an idea! What do you think they are, Richard? You’ve studied so much,—wouldn’t the Rev. Mr. Heathcote have prepared you for them?
Richard.
[Fingering them cautiously.] He might have, I suppose, but I don’t believe I ever got that far advanced!
Lydia.
[Penitently.] That’s because I interfered with the pursuit of your studies, dear Richard! If you hadn’t stopped to marry me——
Richard.
Ah, Lydia, that’s the best thing my poor old tutor ever did,—marrying us to-day!
Lydia.
[Suddenly drawing very close and laying her little hands on his breast in a sort of piteous daring.] To-day? Oh, Richard,—there’s the queer feeling again—it comes and goes! But if it was to-day,—[Very poignantly.] Oh, Richard, why were we so long getting home?