"Geraldine, you knew that I loved you?" "No, I did not know it." "But you suspected it." "Yes, I could not help suspecting it." "And do you love me, Geraldine?" "Yes." "Well enough to be my wife?" "Yes." I kissed her forehead. "How am I to thank you for your love?" "By always, always, loving me." "I will always love you, Geraldine." "I am sure you will," she answered fondly, smoothing my cheek; "and your name is Arthur. May I call you Arthur?" "Of course you may." "Arthur," she said, looking earnestly into my eyes, "what makes you want me to be your wife?" "My love." "And what makes you love me?" "Your sweetness--your waywardness--and all the little points and lights, the colour and shadow, which make up your character and your beauty." "But would you like my character if I were not pretty?" "Certainly I should." "You would think me rude. My face is like charity to my character--it hides my multitude of sins." "Your face is like music to poetry--it turns your character to song." "Arthur, you may compliment me now if you like; I shall love to hear your praise." "Dearest," I exclaimed, rising, "how proud and happy your love makes me feel! Finding you here in this solitude and taking you from it, makes me resemble one of those knights of old who rescued beautiful damsels from the guardianship of the horrible dragons which then flourished. Your dragon is more matter-of-fact than the scaly brutes the poets sing of; but let me tell you it is quite as formidable. _Ennui_ is its name." "Come into the garden," she exclaimed, springing up; "I prefer talking in the sunshine." "Come into my garden," I answered; "there are trees there and we shall like the cool shade." And she tied on her hat before the looking-glass, regarding me with her black eyes, though she seemed to regard herself. I said, "Would you like to live at Elmore Court when we are married?" "Oh, yes!" she answered, turning quickly round, "I would not choose to live anywhere else." "But will you not find it dull?" "Not with you," she replied. I kissed her hand. "At all events," I said, "we can live there until the term I have taken it for is expired." "We will live there always," she exclaimed earnestly. "But come into the garden. You can tell how much I care for the world by living here," she continued, as we left the house; "indeed I never wish to see the world again. I will make you promise always to live at Elmore Court, for there we shall be alone. I shall want you all to myself, Arthur. Indeed you will find me jealous, dear--would you like me to be jealous?" "It is the most genuine test of love. You will find me jealous too." "Shall I?" she cried, clapping her hands. "And it will be very proper that you should. But I doubt if you'll have occasion." We passed through the gate and entered the grounds of Elmore Court.