hat had passed, it seemed as if most of the
protestations had been made by herself. He had asked if _she_ cared,
had kissed her and vowed to be true, but neither then or at any
subsequent meeting had he lost his head, and said all the dear, mad,
exaggerated sweetnesses which were the language of lovers. Teresa had
never before had a lover, but something in her blood, an instinct
stronger than theory, told her that such exaggerations were not the
creations of fiction, but that they existed in very truth, and to both
speaker and hearer should appear the most precious of truths. It was in
her heart to lavish such protestations on Dane; to tell him of the days
when she had longed to touch his lean, brown hands, to lean her head
against the rough frieze of his coat, to tell him how she had loved him,
how she had longed for him, how she had prayed to be made good for his
sake. If she had given way to the impulse, Dane's heart would have
opened in its turn, since there are few men callous enough to remain
unaffected by the love of a girl who is young, and fresh, and agreeable
to the eye; but Teresa's strong sense of propriety forbade her to offer
more than she received, and she sternly repressed the impulse to be
"silly." The engaged couple met often, since in a town of the size of
Chumley every gathering brings together the same people, but
_tete-a-tetes_ were less frequent. When Dane spent an evening at the
Cottage, Teresa wondered if she were bold and unmaidenly because she
longed to carry off her lover to the snuggery on the second floor, and
felt exasperated when he sat contentedly in the drawing-room chatting
with Mrs Mallison and Mary, and even volunteering to play a game with
the Major. On Sunday afternoons, when they were left alone as a matter
of course, he would kiss her and stroke her hair, and say pretty things
about her complexion, and the pretty blue dress, but invariably,
infallibly he would relapse into the old quizzical, irresponsible mood,
treating her as if she were an amusing child, rather than a woman and
his promised wife. Teresa's attempts to give a serious turn to the
conversation were ponderous enough to add to Dane's amusement, and he
would laugh still more, and even mimic her to her face.

Another subject that troubled Teresa was that her lover made no
allusions to the date of their marriage. At least once a day Mrs
Mallison would enquire curiously, "And has the Captain said anything
about