The difference in their atmospheres came out in their talk--in his desire for a handsome and dignified wedding--though the very heavens protested--and her resolve to cut clear of every one, to achieve a sort of gaol delivery of her life, make a new beginning altogether, with the minimum of friction and the maximum of surprise. Unused to fighting, he was magnificently prepared to fight; she, with her intimate knowledge of chronic domestic conflict, was for the evasion of all the bickerings, scoldings, and misrepresentations his challenge would occasion. He thought in his innocence a case could be stated and discussed; but no family discussion she had ever heard had even touched the realities of the issue that occasioned it. "I don't like this underhand preparation," he said. "Nor I," she echoed. "But what can one do?" "Well, oughtn't I to go to your father and give him a chance? Why shouldn't I? It's--the dignified way." "It won't be dignified for father," said Marjorie, "anyhow." "But what right has he to object?" "He isn't going to discuss his rights with you. He _will_ object." "But _why?_" "Oh! because he's started that way. He hit you. I haven't forgotten it. Well, if he goes back on that now----He'd rather die than go back on it. You see, he's ashamed in his heart. It would be like confessing himself wrong not to keep it up that you're the sort of man one hits. He just hates you because he hit you. I haven't been his daughter for twenty-one years for nothing." "I'm thinking of us," said Trafford. "I don't see we oughtn't to go to him just because he's likely to be--unreasonable." "My dear, do as you please. He'll forbid and shout, and hit tables until things break. Suppose he locks me up!" "Oh, Habeas Corpus, and my strong right arm! He's much more likely to turn you out-of-doors." "Not if he thinks the other will annoy you more. I'll have to bear a storm." "Not for long." "He'll bully mother till she cries over me. But do as you please. She'll come and she'll beg me----Do as you please. Perhaps I'm a coward. I'd far rather I could slip away." Trafford thought for a moment. "I'd far rather you could," he answered, in a voice that spoke of inflexible determinations. They turned to the things they meant to do. "_Italy!_" she whispered, "_Italy!_" Her face was alight with her burning expectation of beauty, of love, of the new heaven and the new earth that lay before them. The intensity of that desire blazing through her seemed to shame his dull discretions. He had to cling to his resolution, lest it should vanish in that contagious intoxication. "You understand I shall come to your father," he said, as they drew near the gate where it seemed discreet for them to part. "It will make it harder to get away," she said, with no apparent despondency. "It won't stop us. Oh! do as you please."