"I am not so unkind or unjust as you seem to think, Alan. I do believe thoroughly in your sincerity now, and I am sure you will try your very utmost at all times to make Helen happy. I don't mean to say that it will be necessary to set a watch on your lips, and measure out the common attentions of civilized life by the phrase: the constraint would be too absurdly evident, if _you_ were to become formal. Nor can I suggest, at this moment, any one acquaintance that it would be better you should sacrifice: your own good sense will tell you when and where to be careful and guarded. But I do wish that both you and Helen should try how far you are suited to each other, before you take the one step in life which cannot be recalled. Remember how very young she is. You cannot call me unreasonable if I ask one year's delay before we fix the day for your marriage?" It came at last--that cunning thrust under the guard, impossible to evade, difficult to parry, which the fair gladiator had been meditating from the very outset of her graceful sword-play: all the feints of "breaking ground" had no end or object but this. At those last words Wyverne set his lips slightly, and drew himself together with the involuntary movement which is--_not_ shrinking, just as a fencer might do touched sharply in mid chest by his opponent's foil. Twelve months--not a long delay, surely--scarcely more than would be required to complete the settlements, _trousseaux_, and other preliminaries for some matches that we wot of, especially if a great house is to be swept and garnished, before the bride is brought home. Alan might have thought about some such preparations years ago; now--he only thought that, whatever forces Lady Mildred might have in reserve would all be marshalled in their place before half the probationary year had passed.