She felt it with all the little passion that was in her. After a moment of hesitation, she put one arm timidly round his neck, and, bending her grand head, laid it on his bosom. Her finely-rounded, supple, muscular figure trembled, as if she had been the most fragile woman living. “Dear Amelius!” she murmured inaudibly. He tried to speak to her--his voice failed him. She had, in perfect innocence, fired his young blood. He drew her closer and closer to him: he lifted her head, with a masterful resolution which she was not able to resist, and pressed his kisses in hot and breathless succession on her lips. His vehemence frightened her. She tore herself out of his arms with a sudden exertion of strength that took him completely by surprise. “I didn’t think you would have been rude to me!” With that mild reproach, she turned away, and took the path which led from the shrubbery to the house. Amelius followed her, entreating that she would accept his excuses and grant him a few minutes more. He modestly laid all the blame on her beauty--lamented that he had not resolution enough to resist the charm of it. When did that commonplace compliment ever fail to produce its effect? Regina smiled with the weakly complacent good-nature, which was only saved from being contemptible by its association with her personal attractions. “Will you promise to behave?” she stipulated. And Amelius, not very eagerly, promised. “Shall we go into the summer-house?” he suggested. “It’s very damp at this time of year,” Regina answered, with placid good sense. “Perhaps we might catch cold--we had better walk about.” They walked accordingly. “I wanted to speak to you about our marriage,” Amelius resumed. She sighed softly. “We have some time to wait,” she said, “before we can think of that.” He passed this reply over without notice. “You know,” he went on, “that I have an income of five hundred a year?” “Yes, dear.” “There are hundreds of thousands of respectable artisans, Regina, (with large families), who live comfortably on less than half my income.” “Do they, dear?” “And many gentlemen are not better off. Curates, for instance. Do you see what I am coming to, my darling?” “No, dear.” “Could you live with me in a cottage in the country, with a nice garden, and one little maid to wait on us, and two or three new dresses in a year?” Regina lifted her fine eyes in sober ecstasy to the sky. “It sounds very tempting,” she remarked, in the sweetest tones of her voice. “And it could all be done,” Amelius proceeded, “on five hundred a year.” “Could it, dear?” “I have calculated it--allowing the necessary margin--and I am sure of what I say. And I have done something else; I have asked about the Marriage License. I can easily find lodgings in the neighbourhood. We might be married at Harrow in a fortnight.”