Marjorie admitted it. "I wish I could talk to her more. She's so inspiring." "You know of our little excursion for Friday?" he asked after a pause. She had not heard. Friday was Theodore's birthday; she knew it only too well because she had had to part with her stamp collection--which very luckily had chanced to get packed and come to Buryhamstreet--to meet its demand. Mr. Magnet explained he had thought it might be fun to give a picnic in honour of the anniversary. "How jolly of you!" said Marjorie. "There's a pretty bit of river between Wamping and Friston Hanger--I've wanted you to see it for a long time, and Friston Hanger church has the prettiest view. The tower gets the bend of the river." He told her all he meant to do as if he submitted his plans for her approval. They would drive to Wamping and get a very comfortable little steam launch one could hire there. Wintersloan was coming down again; an idle day of this kind just suited his temperament. Theodore would like it, wouldn't he? "Theodore will think he is King of Surrey!" "I'll have a rod and line if he wants to fish. I don't want to forget anything. I want it to be _his_ day really and truly." The slightest touch upon the pathetic note? She could not tell. But that evening brought Marjorie nearer to loving Magnet than she had ever been. Before she went to sleep that night she had decided he was quite a tolerable person again; she had been too nervous and unjust with him. After all, his urgency and awkwardness had been just a part of his sincerity. Perhaps the faint doubt whether he would make his request again gave the zest of uncertainty to his devotion. Of course, she told herself, he would ask again. And then the blissful air of limitless means she might breathe. The blessed release.... She was suddenly fast asleep. § 12 Friday was after all not so much Theodore's day as Mr. Magnet's. Until she found herself committed there was no shadow of doubt in Marjorie's mind of what she meant to do. "Before I see you again," said Aunt Plessington at the parting kiss, "I hope you'll have something to tell me." She might have been Hymen thinly disguised as an aunt, waving from the departing train. She continued by vigorous gestures and unstinted display of teeth and a fluttering handkerchief to encourage Marjorie to marry Mr. Magnet, until the curve of the cutting hid her from view.... Fortune favoured Mr. Magnet with a beautiful day, and the excursion was bright and successful from the outset. It was done well, and what perhaps was more calculated to impress Marjorie, it was done with lavish generosity. From the outset she turned a smiling countenance upon her host. She did her utmost to suppress a reviving irrational qualm in her being, to maintain clearly and simply her overnight decision, that he should propose again and that she should accept him.