"Yes, dear, but she will grow wiser in that direction, and you cannot be surprised at her anxiety. Rob, dearest, you must not blame her for her worship of one whom she looks upon as a demigod--the perfection of all that is manly and strong." "Oh, no; it's all right, mother," said Rolph, who felt flattered by the maternal and girlish adulation; "I'll behave like a lamb." "You'll behave like my own true, brave son, dearest, and make me very happy. When shall it be, Rob?" "Eh? The marriage?" "Yes, dear," said Mrs Rolph, kneeling at his side and passing an arm about him. "Has Madge been at you about it?" "For shame, dearest! She would die sooner than speak. You know how she gave up to what you fancied would make you happy before. Never a word, never a murmur; and she took that poor unfortunate girl, Glynne, to her heart as a sister." "Damn it all, mother, do let that cursed business rest," cried Rolph impatiently. "Yes, dearest, of course; pray forgive me." "Oh, all right! But--er--Madge--she hasn't seen her--hasn't been over there?" "No, my love, of course not. There must be no further communication between our families. It was Sir John's own wish, as you know. No one could have behaved more honourably, or with more chivalrous consideration than he did over the horribly distressing circumstances. But that's all dead, past and forgotten now, and you need not fear any allusions being made in the place. It was quite wonderful how little was ever known outside the house. But there, no more past; let's have present and future. Time is flying, Rob, dearest, and I'm getting an old woman now." "And a deuced fine, handsome old woman, too," said Rolph, with an unwonted show of affection, for he passed his arm about her, and kissed her warmly. "I tell you what it is, old lady, I only wish I could meet with one like you--a fine, handsome, elderly body, with no confounded damn-nonsense about her. I'd propose in a minute." "My dearest boy, what absurd stuff you do talk, when the most beautiful girl for miles round is waiting patiently for you to say,--`Come, and I will recompense you with my life's devotion for all your long suffering, and the agony of years.'" "Just what I'm likely to say, mother," said Rolph, grimly. "But you will in your heart." "All right, I'll try. She will let me have my own way. But I say, mother, she has grown precious thin and old-looking while you have been on the Continent." "What wonder, dearest boy. Can a woman suffer, as she has about you for two years now, without showing the lines of care. But what of them. It will be your pleasant duty to smooth them all out, and you can, dearest, and so easily. A month after she is yours she will not look the same." Mrs Rolph's words were spoken in all sincerity, and there was a great deal in them as to their probabilities, but not in the direction she meant. "Rob, dearest," she whispered caressingly, soon after, "when shall it be?" "Don't know."