He was silent, seeing that she had grasped his meaning more quickly than he had anticipated, and had, in fact, accepted him, quite simply and confidently, as her husband that was to be. Her child-like trust was at that moment very bitter to him. He bent his head and kissed her forehead as a father might have done. "My dear Enid," he said, "we must remember that you are very young. I feel that I may be taking advantage of your inexperience--as if some day you might reproach me for it." "I told you I did not feel young," she said gently; "but perhaps I cannot judge. Do what you please." The listlessness in her voice almost angered Hubert. "Do you not love me then?" he asked. "Oh, yes--I always loved you!" said the girl. But there was no look of a woman's love in her grave eyes. "You were always so kind to me, dear cousin Hubert; and indeed I feel as if I could trust you absolutely. You shall decide for me in everything." There was certainly relief in her tone; but Hubert had looked for something more. "I have been wanting to speak to you for several days," he said, "but I have never had the opportunity before; and I must tell you, dear, that I spoke to the General before I spoke to you." "Oh," Enid's fair face flushed a little. "I thought--I did not know that you intended--when you began to speak to me first, I mean----" Hubert could not help smiling. "I understand; you thought I spoke on a sudden impulse of affection, longing to comfort and help you. So I did. But that is not incompatible with previous thought and preparation, is it? Surely my care for you--my love for you--would be worth less as a sudden growth than as a plant of long and hardy growth?" He groaned inwardly at the subterfuge contained in the last few words, but he felt that it was unavoidable. Enid looked up and gave him an answering smile. "Oh, yes, I see!" she said hurriedly; but there was some little dissatisfaction in her mind, she did not quite know why. Even her innocent heart dimly discerned the fact that Hubert was not her ideal lover. His wooing had scarcely been ardent in tone; and to find that it had all been discussed, mapped out, as it were, and formally permitted by the General, and perhaps by his wife, gave her a sudden chill. For Flossy's interpretation of Enid's melancholy was by no means a true one. She had dreamed a little of Hubert in a vague romantic way, as young girls are apt to do when a new-comer strikes their fancy; but she had not set her heart upon him at all in the way which Florence had led her brother to believe. There was certainly danger lest she should do so now. "The General says," Hubert went on more lightly, "that you cannot be expected to know your own mind for a couple of years. What do you say to that?" "I think that uncle Richard might know me better," said the girl, smiling. She was still standing on the hearthrug, and Hubert put his arm round her as he spoke.