"There couldn't be two opinions on that subject."
"Then, if you think I'm so beautiful, don't let your brother and his
snobbish Duchess spoil my life."
"They can't spoil it."
"Yes, they can. They can keep me from being a success in their set, your
set--the _only_ set."
"Perhaps they can do that. But England isn't the only country, anyhow.
I've been thinking that when--by and by--we might take a long trip round
the world----"
"_Hang_ the world! England's my world. I've always looked forward to
England, ever since I was a little thing, before mamma died, and I used
to hear father repeating the romantic family story--how, if he could
only find his mother's letters that she'd tried to tell him about when
she was dying, perhaps he might make a legal claim to a title and a
fortune. He used to turn to me and say: 'Maybe you'll be a great lady
when you grow up, Margot, and I shall be an English viscount.' Then,
when he did find the letters, behind the secret partition in
grandmother's big old-fashioned sandal-wood fan-box, of which you've
heard so much----"
"Too much, please, Margot."
"I _beg_ your pardon! But anyway, you see why I want to live in England.
My life and soul are bound up in my success here. And I could have a
success. You know I could. I am beautiful. I haven't seen any woman
whose face I'd change for mine. I won't be cheated out of my
happiness----"
"Very well, we'll live in England, then. That's settled," said Stephen,
hastily. "And you shall have all the success, all the happiness, that I
can possibly give you. But we shall have to get on without any help from
my brother and sister-in-law, and perhaps without a good many other
people you might like to have for friends. It may seem hard, but you
must make up your mind to it, Margot. Luckily, there'll be enough money
to do pleasant things with; and people don't matter so immensely, once
you've got used to----"
"They do, they do! The right people. I _shall_ know them."
"You must have patience. Everybody is rather tired of our names just
now. Things may change some day. I'm ready to begin the experiment
whenever you are."
"You are a dear," said Margot. And Stephen did not even shiver. "That
brings me to what I had to tell you. It's this: after all, we can't be
married quite as soon as we expected."
"Can't we?" he echoed the words blankly. Was this to be a reprieve? But
he was not sure that he wanted a reprieve. He thought, the sooner the
plunge was made, the better, maybe. Looking forward to it had become
almost unbearable.
"No, I _must_ run over to Canada first, Stephen. I've just begun to see
that. You might say, I could go there with you after we were married,
but it wouldn't be the same thing at all. I ought to stay with some of
my old friends while I'm still Margot Lorenzi. A lot of people were
awfully good to father, and I must show my gratitude. The sooner I sail
the better, now the news of our engagement has got ahead of me. I
needn't stop away very long. Seven or eight weeks--or nine at most,
going and coming."
"Would you like to be married in Canada?" Stephen asked; perhaps partly
to please her, but probably more to disguise the fact that he had no
impatient objections to raise against her plan. "If you wished, I could
go whenever----"
"Oh no, no!" she exclaimed quickly. "I wouldn't have you come there for
anything in the world. That is. I mean----" she corrected herself with
an anxious, almost frightened side glance at him--"I must fight it out
alone. No, I don't mean that either. What a stupid way of putting it!
But it would bore you dreadfully to take such a journey, and it would be
nicer anyhow to be married in England--perhaps at St. George's. That
used to be my dream, when I was a romantic little girl, and loved to
stuff my head full of English novels. I should adore a wedding at St.
George's. And oh, Stephen, you won't change your mind while I'm gone? It
would kill me if you jilted me after all. I shouldn't live a single day,
if you weren't true."
"Don't talk nonsense, my dear girl. Of course I'm not going to change
my mind," said Stephen. "When do you want to sail?"
"The end of this week. You're sure you won't let your brother and that
cruel Duchess talk you over? I----"
"There's not the slightest chance of their talking to me at all,"
Stephen answered sharply. "We've definitely quarrelled."