Virginia betrays no surprise. Poor soul! She understands too well.
"Why?" she says quietly. "I think we are very well as we are."
"No," he returns hastily, "we are not! My views have changed on the
subject--changed entirely. Marriage is the best thing. It decides your
fate. To live as we do is neither one thing nor the other."
"You forget," she says, in a tone so calm as to be almost unnatural.
"This state has great advantages. There is no tie between us. If either
of us tired of the other, there is nothing to hinder our parting,
to-morrow--to-night even." He looks at her, speechless with amazement.
Her eyes do not flinch from his. "If," she continues, with that terrible
calmness,--"if you wanted to marry Miss Constance Devereux; if I wished
to marry--let us say, Lord Harford--there is nothing to prevent it
except," slowly, "the unwritten law of a faithful heart."
Philip Vansittart leans his face between his hands. He cannot find a
word to say. He is smitten with remorse, for he knows well enough that
she is faithful. But why that allusion to Lord Harford?
"What do you mean about Harford?" he asks presently.
"He wants me to marry him," replied Virginia quietly. "He asked me four
years ago; he asked me again the day before yesterday."
She draws a letter from her pocket, and scans Philip's face as he reads
it.
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