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She liked the repression no less than the feeling and was again
drawn towards him.
"I wish I could," she murmured. "Honestly, I wish I could."
He pressed her no more; if he had, she might possibly at last have given
a reluctant assent. That he would not have, even had it been in his power
to gain it.
"I'll come back--after the holidays," he said.
She looked up and met his glance.
"Yes, after the holidays," she repeated absently.
"You go to Ashwood?"
There was a pause before she answered. It came into her mind suddenly
that it would have been strange to go to Ashwood as Weston Marchmont's
promised wife. Why she could not quite tell; perhaps because such a
position would set her very much outside of all that was being thought
and talked of there, indeed in a quasi-antagonism to it. Anyhow the
position would make her feel quite differently towards it all.
"Yes," she answered at last, and mustered a laugh as she added, "I'm not
so particular as you, you know. And Amy wants me."
"I wish you always did what people want you to," said he, smiling.


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