Margaret did not believe that Claudius could possibly break his plighted word, and he knew that he would die rather than forfeit his faith.

And so they sat side by side with the book, ostensibly reading, actually talking, most of the day.
And sometimes one or the other would go a little too near the forbidden point, and then there was a moment's silence, and the least touch of embarrassment; and once Margaret laughed a queer little laugh at one of these stumbles, and once Claudius sighed.

But they were very happy, and the faint colour that was natural to the Doctor's clear white skin came back as his heart was eased of its burden, and Margaret's dark cheek grew darker with the sun and the wind that she took no pains to keep from her face, though the olive flushed sometimes to a warmer hue, with pleasure--or what?
She thought it was the salt breeze.
"How well those two look!" exclaimed Lady Victoria once to Mr.Barker.
"I have seen Claudius look ghastly," said Barker, for he thought they looked too "well" altogether.
"Yes; do you remember one morning--I think it was the day before, or the day after, the accident?
I thought he was going to faint." "Perhaps he was sea-sick," suggested Barker.
"Oh no, we were a week out then, and he was never ill at all from the first." "Perhaps he was love-sick," said the other, willing to be spiteful.
"How ridiculous! To think of such a thing!" cried the stalwart English girl; for she was only a girl in years despite her marriage.

"But really," she continued, "if I were going to write a novel I would put those two people in it, they are so awfully good-looking.

I would make all my heroes and heroines beautiful if I wrote books." "Then I fear I shall never be handed down to posterity by your pen, Lady Victoria," said Barker, with a smile.
"No," said she, eyeing him critically, "I don't think I would put you in my book.