Paul's courtship of Ida really began the night when he took her in his arms as his promised wife, for although she had called him her lover before, his devotion, while impassioned enough, had been too distant and wholly reverential to be called a wooing.

But the night of their betrothal his love had caught from her lips a fire that was of earth, and it was no longer as a semi-spiritual being that he worshipped her, but as a woman whom it was no sacrilege to kiss a thousand times a day, not upon her hand, her sleeve, or the hem of her dress, but full upon the soft warm mouth.
This transformation of the devotee into the lover on his part was attended by a corresponding change in Ida's manner toward him.

A model relieved from a strained pose could not show more evident relief than she did in stepping down from the pedestal of a tutelary saint, where he had placed her, to be loved and caressed like an ordinary woman, for if the love had at first been all on his side, it certainly was not now.
"I'm so glad," she said one day, "that you have done with worshipping me.
Think of your humbling yourself before me, you who are a hundred thousand times better, and wiser, and greater than I.Oh, Paul it is I who ought to worship you, and who am not good enough to kiss you," and before he could prevent her she had caught his hand, and, bowing her face over it, had kissed it.

As he drew it away he felt that there were tears upon it.
It was evening, and he could not see her face distinctly.
"Darling," he exclaimed, "what is the trouble ?" "Oh, nothing at all!" she replied.

"It is because I am in love, I suppose." Whether it was because she was in love or not it is certain that she took to crying very often during these days.