Marmaduke, taken unawares, reddened violently. He murmured that he didn’t know.
“You ought to,” said the Dean. “When a young man converts himself into a girl’s shadow, even although he is her cousin and has been brought up with her from childhood, people begin to gossip. They gossip even within the august precincts of a stately cathedral.”
“I’m very sorry,” said Marmaduke. “I’ve had the very best intentions.”
The Dean smiled.
“What were they?”
“To make her like me a little,” replied Marmaduke. Then, feeling that the Dean was kindly disposed, he blurted out awkwardly: “I hoped that one day I might ask her to marry me.”
“That’s what I wanted to know,” said the Dean.
“You haven’t done it yet?”
“No,” said Marmaduke.
“Why don’t you?”