“Shall we go into the summer-house?” he suggested.
“It’s very damp at this time of year,” Regina answered, with placid good sense. “Perhaps we might catch cold—we had better walk about.”
They walked accordingly. “I wanted to speak to you about our marriage,” Amelius resumed.
She sighed softly. “We have some time to wait,” she said, “before we can think of that.”
He passed this reply over without notice. “You know,” he went on, “that I have an income of five hundred a year?”
“Yes, dear.”
“There are hundreds of thousands of respectable artisans, Regina, (with large families), who live comfortably on less than half my income.”
“Do they, dear?”
“And many gentlemen are not better off. Curates, for instance. Do you see what I am coming to, my darling?”
“No, dear.”