a question with her, any
agreeableness he had was so much gain. Poor Gwendolen had no awe of
unmanageable forces in the state of matrimony, but regarded it as
altogether a matter of management, in which she would know how to act.
In relation to Grandcourt's past she encouraged new doubts whether he
were likely to have differed much from other men; and she devised
little schemes for learning what was expected of men in general.

But whatever else might be true in the world, her hair was dressed
suitably for riding, and she went down in her riding-habit, to avoid
delay before getting on horseback. She wanted to have her blood stirred
once more with the intoxication of youth, and to recover the daring
with which she had been used to think of her course in life. Already a
load was lifted off her; for in daylight and activity it was less
oppressive to have doubts about her choice, than to feel that she had
no choice but to endure insignificance and servitude.

"Go back and make yourself look like a duchess, mamma," she said,
turning suddenly as she was going down-stairs. "Put your point-lace
over your head. I must have you look like a duchess. You must not take
things humbly."

When Grandcourt raised her left hand gently and looked at the ring, she
said gravely, "It was very good of you to think of everything and send
me that packet."

"You will tell me if there is anything I forget?" he said, keeping the
hand softly within his own. "I will do anything you wish."

"But I am very unreasonable in my wishes," said Gwendolen, smiling.

"Yes, I expect that. Women always are."

"Then I will not be unreasonable," said Gwendolen, taking away her hand
and tossing her head saucily. "I will not be told that I am what women
always are."

"I did not say that," said Grandcourt, looking at her with his usual
gravity. "You are what no other woman is."

"And what is that, pray?" said Gwendolen, moving to a distance with a
little air of menace.

Grandcourt made his pause before he answered. "You are the woman I
love."

"Oh, what nice speeches!" said Gwendolen, laughing. The sense of that
love which he must once have given to another woman under strange
circumstances was getting familiar.

"Give me a nice speech in return. Say when we are to be married."

"Not yet. Not till we have had a gallop over the downs. I am so thirsty
for that, I can think of nothing else. I wish the hunting had begun.
Sunday the twentieth, twenty-seve