Adventure stories; England -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Love stories; Young men -- Fiction
For answer she lashed Diogenes to a gallop so that the cart lurched
and swayed in highly unpleasant fashion; but presently, this speed
abating somewhat, I ventured to loose my grip of the seat and
thrusting hands into pockets, felt the case containing the locket and
chain.
"Are you any better tempered yet?" I enquired.
"No--nor like to be--"
"That's a pity!"
"Oh--why?"
"Because you look prettier when you don't frown--"
"Oh tush!"
"Though you're handsome always. And besides I--I brought you a small
present--"
"Well, you can keep it--"
"You haven't looked at it yet!"
"Don't want to!"
"Here it is," said I, opening the case. "Do you like it?"
"No!"
"Won't you accept it?"
"No, I won't!"
"Why, very well!" said I, and shutting the case I threw it into the
road.
"Ah, don't! How could you!" she cried and reined Diogenes to abrupt
standstill. "Go and pick it up--this instant!"
"If you don't want it--I won't!" said I, folding my arms.
"I didn't say I didn't want it--"
"But you wouldn't accept it--"
"No more I will--yet--"
"Now of all the ridiculous, unreasonable creatures--"
"So please go an' pick it up, Peregrine."
"If I do, will you let me put it round your neck?"
"Wait till--till I feels a little kinder to you!"
"That will be a unique occasion and one to remember!" said I bitterly,
and springing from the cart, I went and took up my despised gift,
though with very ill grace. "And pray, madam," I enquired, thrusting
the case into my pocket and frowning up at her where she leaned, chin
on fist, viewing me with her sombre gaze, "when are you likely to feel
any kinder?"
"How should I know--and you look s' strange and different in your new
clo'es--"
"It is to be hoped so!" said I.
"And your curls all cut off!"
"I never thought you'd notice--"
"And you seem more cocksure than ever--"
"Cocksure is an ugly word, Diana."
"So I think I liked you better as you were."
"Good!" said I, climbing back into the cart. "It remains for me to
make you like me best--as I am."
"How?"
"By marrying you."
"But you don't--we ain't in love with each other or any such
silliness," said she, flicking idly at the hedge with the whip.
"I'm not so sure, Diana. Indeed, I begin to think I do--love you in a
way--or may do soon."
"Oh, do you?"
"I do!"
"Have you ever been in love?"
"Never."
"Then you don't know nothin' about it."
"Do you?" I questioned.
"More than you!" she nodded.
"Ah, do you mean that you have loved--some man--"
"Of course not, silly!"
"Good!" said I. "And you have promised faithfully never to kiss any
other man but me--"
"I said the man I married--"
"Well, that _is_ me."
"Oh, is it?"
"Of course!"
CHAPTER XXX
OF A TRULY MEMORABLE OCCASION
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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