"Dear little woman!" he responded, with ardent embraces, from which she did not shrink--at least, not much; "it is my greatest pleasure in life to give you things." And from this substantial base of operations the astute lover opened the campaign which was to deliver her, a helpless captive, into his hands. "And now," he said, when the watch having been consigned to its pocket in her pretty homespun gown, and the chain artistically festooned from a button-hole at her waist, a suggestive silence fell upon them--"now I want to know what you mean by saying you won't be married till next year? Naughty child, you made me very miserable with that letter. Though to be sure it was better than the other one, which was so horribly, so really brutally, cold that I had to go to the fire to get warm after reading it. Oh, Rachel, you are not _half_ in love yet, I fear!" "Don't say that," she murmured, with tender compunction. "And I believe that is why you wish to put off our marriage." "Oh, don't say that!" she repeated, weakly anxious to re-assure and conciliate him, and to postpone unpleasantness--woman-like, afraid of the very opportunity that she wanted when she saw herself unexpectedly confronted with it. "I don't wish to put it off--only for a little while." "Do you call till next year a little while? Because I don't." "Of course it is. Why, here is August!" "And there are five long months--double the time we have been engaged already. And it wouldn't be comfortable to be travelling in the hot season." "You said spring would be a nice time," suggested Rachel. She was touching his sleeve with timid, deprecatory caresses, and she was desperately frightened and anxious. "Yes; _this_ spring--not twelve months hence. Oh, my pet, _do_ let it be this spring. There are three lovely months before us, and I should like to get that Sydney house. I have the offer of it still for a few days; I got them to keep it open till I could consult you. You _must_ remember that I am not as young as you are, Rachel; a year one way or the other may be of no account to you, but it is of very great importance to me." There was a touch of impatience and irritation in his voice, which helped her to pluck up courage to cling to her resolve. At the same time she heard the soft ticking of that precious watch at her side; her heart was touched and warmed by what she called his "kindness;" and she was anxious to do anything that she _could_ do to please him. "Won't it do when the house is built?" she asked, in a wheedling, cowardly, coaxing tone, as she laid her cheek for a moment on his shoulder. "I will come back to Melbourne as soon as you like--I can stay with Beatrice, if aunt likes to remain here. We can be together almost as if we were married. We can ride together every day, and watch how the house goes on; and you know aunt doesn't mind _how_ much you are with us at Toorak. Only if you would consent to put off the wedding till then--"