"Yes."
There was a dead silence. Presently Maurice said,
"Well, that is the best piece of news I have received for many a day—for you don't seem heartbroken, Linn. And now—have you any plans?—perhaps you have hardly had time?—"
He was looking at Lionel—wondering whether the same idea was in both their heads—and yet afraid to speak.
"Maurice," Lionel said, presently, with some hesitation, "tell me—could I ask Nina—look at me—such a wreck—could I ask her to become my wife? It's about Capri I am thinking—we could go together there, when I am a bit stronger—"
There was a flash of satisfaction in the deep-set, friendly gray eyes.
"This is what I expected, Linn. Well, put the question to herself—and the sooner the better!"
"Yes, but—" Lionel said, as if afraid.
"Oh, I know," Maurice said, confidently. "Tell Nina that you are not yet quite recovered—that you have need of her care—and she will go to the world's end with you. Only you must get married first, for the sake of appearances."
"What will she say, Maurice?" he asked again, as if there were some curious doubt, or perhaps merely timidity, in his mind.