Cecily only looked at him, drawing away a little from his eagerness. A moment before she had been all gayety. But the very word “marry” stirred depths in her which were frightening. And again she was in the convent, listening to the Jesuit priest, hearing him tell them of the choices before women. She was afraid and allured--and stirred. Those same choices pressing upon her--Dick no longer just a companion, just fun to be with, but Dick wanting to marry her! It was enough to make her spirit draw back as it did. Dick could get no answer. And he had grace enough not to press for one. But Cecily’s mother, seeing what had happened in the new awkwardness between Dick and her daughter, knew that the time for interference had come. She found Cecily sitting in her room, looking into space, much as Mother Fénelon had found her on the last day of the retreat. Cecily took her mother’s hand as she sat down beside her and held it, and the simple gesture affected Mrs. Warner greatly. “Trouble, Cecily?” “Dicks wants me to marry him,” said Cecily, without classifying. “Dick loves you,” her mother answered. “But--marrying--ought I to get married, mother?” “Surely not unless you want to.” “I don’t--not want to. And he--Dick makes it seem possible. But I don’t know anything about it, mother. I wouldn’t know how to be married.” There were tears in her mother’s eyes now. “A little of marriage I can tell you about, Cecily dear--but the rest you learn from your husband--the rest you and he learn together. And that’s why it’s hard to help you now, dear. If Dick is the person you want to learn with, you should marry him. But I can’t tell whether he is or not. If he isn’t, he mustn’t be your husband. As far as an outsider can tell--yes, even I must be an outsider here--he would be a good husband for you. But unless you want him, unless you want him badly, there’s no good in it.” The reserved, the aloof Mrs. Warner had broken some barrier to talk like that. She seemed to feel the unaccustomed mood and changed quickly--again Cecily’s quiet, controlled mother. “Go to bed now, Cecily,” she finished. “When you see more of Dick you can tell better. And I won’t let him hurry or worry you. And I want you to have a good rest.”