There was not a single sign of middle age in the smooth cheeks, not a single grey hair, no sign of weariness in the soft full eyes raised to his.
She caught his glance and smiled.
"The firelight is so becoming!" she murmured.
"Don't go!" he said.
"My dear Arranmore.

The Redcliffes would never forgive me, and we must go some time." "I don't see the necessity," he answered, slowly.

"You like Enton.
Make it your home." She raised her eyebrows.
"How improper!" "Not necessarily," he answered.

"Take me too." She sat up in her chair and regarded him steadily.
"Am I to regard this," she asked, "as an offer of marriage ?" "Well, it sounds like it," he admitted.
"Dear me.

You might have given me a little more notice," she said.
"Let me think for a moment, please." Perhaps their thoughts travelled back in the same direction.