You couldn't have made me. When I
am very happy"--she kissed him--"I remember on how little it all
hangs. If Charlotte had only known, she would have stopped me
going in, and I should have gone to silly Greece, and become
different for ever."
"But she did know," said George; "she did see my father, surely.
He said so."
"Oh, no, she didn't see him. She was upstairs with old Mrs.
Beebe, don't you remember, and then went straight to the church.
She said so."
George was obstinate again. "My father," said he, "saw her, and I
prefer his word. He was dozing by the study fire, and he opened
his eyes, and there was Miss Bartlett. A few minutes before you
came in. She was turning to go as he woke up. He didn't speak to
her."
Then they spoke of other things--the desultory talk of those who
have been fighting to reach one another, and whose reward is to
rest quietly in each other's arms. It was long ere they returned
to Miss Bartlett, but when they did her behaviour seemed more
interesting.
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