"My darling!" he said, "My little darling, what is the matter?" He knelt down by her and pulled her hat-pin out. "Ghastly long thing," he said to himself, even in that moment, "enough to kill one." He stuck it into the back of the sofa, took off her hat and flung it--her best hat--to the other end of the room, and gathered her into his arms and kissed her. "Why, what are you crying for?" he asked. "I have not frightened you, have I?" But his tone was triumphant, for since she made no resistance he thought it must be all right, so he wisely went on kissing her, for there is nothing like making the most of an opportunity--especially a first one. "Oh, you mustn't--you mustn't!" she said, afraid lest he should see the shame and the joy in her eyes. "You know this is what it means," he said, holding her closer. "Why, we liked each other from the first, didn't we? Think what a spree we had that morning when we came here with the flowers." "I know," she whispered; "but I can't be married." "Why not?" "It seems so strange." "You'll get used to it." "And father is away." "All the more reason." "But we can't, till he comes back." "Yes, we can; there are plenty of churches about. By-the-way, you don't go to one, do you? You know, I never thought much of those unbeliefs of yours." "What do you mean?" she asked, struggling out of his arms and trying to be collected and sensible, but finding it rather difficult. "Well, you know, I think people often believe in things and don't know it, or don't believe in anything and yet imagine they do. I can't see that it matters myself, so long as one tries to do the right thing. If all the roads lead to heaven, it doesn't matter what language one talks on the journey, or whether one arrives in a monk's cowl or with a feather in one's cap." "You are talking nonsense," she said, looking at his face and thinking what a dear one it was. "Of course I am; we are much too happy to talk anything else. By-the-way, I ought to beg your pardon for thinking you cared about Garratt." "I think you ought," she laughed. "Though I don't know whether I'm any better than he is," he added, modestly. "I say, you do care for me, don't you? You know you haven't said it yet." "I do care for you," she said. "When did you begin?" "I don't know; I don't know a bit, Tom dear, but what I have felt is that--" "Yes, go on." "--That it was the greatest happiness in the world to be with you. Why, I have simply laughed for joy at the sound of your step, and when you are away I think of you all the time and every minute, and I don't even care for the theatre now, or for being an actress." "Good! good!" he cried, triumphantly. "Go on." "And I am so happy now," she continued--"so stifled and overcome with happiness that I feel as if I should die of it." "Oh, well, don't do that--it's quite unnecessary, and it would be rather a bore, you know. When shall we be married?" "Oh, but--"