“What a tragic little voice! You really
are done up. I couldn’t help dropping in
for a minute; but of course if you say so I’ll
be off.” She was removing her long gloves
and he took her hands and drew her close. “Only
take off your veil, and let me see you.”
A quiver of resistance ran through her: he felt
it and dropped her hands.
“Please don’t tease. I never could
bear it,” she stammered, drawing away.
“Till to-morrow, then; that is, if the dress-makers
permit.”
She forced a laugh. “If I showed myself
now you might not come back to-morrow. I look
perfectly hideous—it was so hot and they
kept me so long.”
“All to make yourself more beautiful for a man
who’s blind with your beauty already?”
The words made her smile, and moving nearer she bent
her head and stood still while he undid her veil.
As he put it back their lips met, and his look of
passionate tenderness was incense to her.
But the next moment his expression passed from worship
to concern. “Dear! Why, what’s
the matter? You’ve been crying!”
She put both hands to her hat in the instinctive effort
to hide her face. His persistence was as irritating
as her mother’s.
“I told you it was frightfully hot—and
all my things were horrid; and it made me so cross
and nervous!” She turned to the looking-glass
with a feint of smoothing her hair.
Marvell laid his hand on her arm, “I can’t
bear to see you so done up. Why can’t we
be married to-morrow, and escape all these ridiculous
preparations? I shall hate your fine clothes if
they’re going to make you so miserable.”
She dropped her hands, and swept about on him, her
face lit up by a new idea. He was extraordinarily
handsome and appealing, and her heart began to beat
faster.
“I hate it all too! I wish we could
be married right away!”
Marvell caught her to him joyously. “Dearest—dearest!
Don’t, if you don’t mean it! The
thought’s too glorious!”
Undine lingered in his arms, not with any intent of
tenderness, but as if too deeply lost in a new train
of thought to be conscious of his hold.
“I suppose most of the things could be
got ready sooner—if I said they must,”
she brooded, with a fixed gaze that travelled past
him. “And the rest—why shouldn’t
the rest be sent over to Europe after us? I want
to go straight off with you, away from everything—ever
so far away, where there’ll be nobody but you
and me alone!” She had a flash of illumination
which made her turn her lips to his.
“Oh, my darling—my darling!”
Marvell whispered.
