‘A peace offering,’ I said. ‘I meant to come sooner; I started
out quite early after lunch.’
‘You’ve had tea?’ asked Mollie, and I said, yes, had.
George had his pipe; he always had; he took it out of his mouth,
and held out his book.
‘Have you read it?’ he asked. ‘Awfully good!’
I looked at the book; it was Aksakov’s _Memories of Childhood_;
I had not read it; I turned over the pages, and read bits of
it, here and there. I said:
‘I came to tell you, really, that I am engaged to Walter Sebright.’