'It's d---- difficult to know what to do.'
'But you do love me?'
'Of course I do. If I didn't love you why should I be here walking round this stupid place? They talk of your being married to Nidderdale about the end of August.'
'Some day in August. But that's all nonsense, you know. They can't take me up and marry me, as they used to do the girls ever so long ago. I won't marry him. He don't care a bit for me, and never did. I don't think you care much, Felix.'
'Yes, I do. A fellow can't go on saying so over and over again in a beastly place like this. If we were anywhere jolly together, then I could say it often enough.'
'I wish we were, Felix. I wonder whether we ever shall be.'
'Upon my word I hardly see my way as yet.'
'You're not going to give it up!'
'Oh no;--not give it up; certainly not. But the bother is a fellow doesn't know what to do.'
'You've heard of young Mr Goldsheiner, haven't you?' suggested Marie.
'He's one of those city chaps.'
'And Lady Julia Start?'
'She's old Lady Catchboy's daughter. Yes; I've heard of them. They got spliced last winter.'
'Yes;--somewhere in Switzerland, I think. At any rate they went to Switzerland, and now they've got a house close to Albert Gate.'
'How jolly for them! He is awfully rich, isn't he?'
'I don't suppose he's half so rich as papa. They did all they could to prevent her going, but she met him down at Folkestone just as the tidal boat was starting. Didon says that nothing was easier.'
'Oh;--ah. Didon knows all about it.'
'That she does.'
'But she'd lose her place.'
'There are plenty of places. She could come and live with us, and be my maid. If you would give her £50 for herself, she'd arrange it all.'
'And would you come to Folkstone?'
'I think that would be stupid, because Lady Julia did that. We should make it a little different. If you liked I wouldn't mind going to--New York. And then, perhaps, we might--get--married, you know, on board. That's what Didon thinks.'
'And would Didon go too?'
'That's what she proposes. She could go as my aunt, and I'd call myself by her name,--any French name you know. I should go as a French girl. And you could call yourself Smith, and be an American. We wouldn't go together, but we'd get on board just at the last moment. If they wouldn't--marry us on board, they would at New York, instantly.'