The honeymoon was to be spent in the retirement of Polperro, a Cornish village, the beauty and seclusion of which Perigal never tired of describing.  As far as they could both see at present, Mavis was to keep on with her work at the office (the honeymoon was to consist of her fortnight’s annual holiday), till such time as he could prepare a home for her in Wales.  Although not welcoming, she did not offer the least objection to this arrangement, as she saw that it was all that could be done under their present circumstances.  She wrote out and placed over her bed a list of dates, which culminated in the day on which she was to throw in her lot with the loved one; every day, as soon as she awoke, she crossed off one more of the slowly dwindling days.  Nearly every Saturday she took the train to Bathminster, where she spent a considerable fraction of the forty pounds she had saved in buying a humble equivalent for a trousseau.

As boxes and parcels of clothes began to arrive at her lodgings, she would try on the most attractive of these, the while her eyes shone with happiness.  Those with whom she was commonly brought in contact noticed the change in her demeanour.  Mrs Farthing smiled mysteriously, as if guessing the cause.  Miss Hunter made many unsuccessful efforts to worm confidences from Mavis; while plain Miss Toombs showed her displeasure of the alteration that had occurred in her by scarcely ever addressing her, and then only when compelled.

“You look like a bride,” she remarked one day, when Mavis was glowing with happiness.

Mavis saw something of Perigal pretty well every day.  Sometimes, they would meet quite early of a morning by the canal; if they did not see each other then, they made a point of getting a few minutes together of an evening, usually by the river.  So that no hint of their intentions should reach Major Perigal, the lovers met furtively, a proceeding which enhanced the charm of their intercourse.

At all times, Mavis was moved by an abiding concern for his health.  There was much of the maternal in her love, leading her frequently to ask if his linen were properly aired and if he were careful to avoid getting damp feet; she also made him solemnly promise to tell her immediately if he were not feeling in the best of health.  Mavis, with a great delight, could not help noticing the change that had taken place in her lover ever since their betrothal.  He, too, was conscious of the difference, and was fond of talking about it.

“I never thought I’d grow young again!” he would remark.

“What about second childhood?” laughed the irrepressible Mavis.

“Seriously, I didn’t.  I always felt so old.  And it’s little Mavis who has done it all.”

“Really, sweetheart?”

“All, dear.”

She rewarded him with a glance of love and tenderness.

He went on: 

“The past is all over and done with.  I made a fresh start from the day you promised to throw in your exquisite self with me.”