The professor and Mrs. Wainwright were left to
themselves.
Marjory and Coleman did not speak for a time. It
might have been that they did not quite know where
to make a beginning. At last Marjory asked:
"What has become of your splendid horse?"
"Oh, I've told the dragoman to have him sold as
soon as he arrives," said Coleman absently.
" Oh. I'm sorry * * I liked that horse."
"Why? "
"Oh, because-"
"Well, he was a fine-" Then he, too, interrupted
himself, for he saw plainly that they had not
come to this place to talk about a horse. Thereat he
made speech of matters which at least did not afford
as many opportunities for coherency as would the
horse. Marjory, it can't be true * * * Is it true,
dearest * * I can hardly believe it. -I-"
" Oh, I know I'm not nearly good enough for you."
" Good enough for me, dear?
" They all told me so, and they were right ! Why,
even the American minister said it. Everybody thinks
it."
"Why, aren 't they wretches To think of them
saying such a thing! As if-as if anybody could be
too--"
" Do you know-" She paused and looked at
him with a certain timid challenge. " I don't know
why I feel it, but-sometimes I feel that I've been
I've been flung at your head."
He opened his mouth in astonishment. " Flung at
my head!
She held up her finger. "And if I thought you
could ever believe it ! "
" Is a girl flung at a man's head when her father
carries her thousands of miles away and the man
follows her all these miles, and at last-"
" Her eyes were shining.
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