" he said, and at the sound of his voice she thrilled with relief.
"It's as well to look all round a thing, I admit. We will consider that
supposition if you like. Say something happens to prevent our marriage.
What then? Is it to put an end to our friendship also?"

She turned slightly towards him. "I might never be able to repay you,"
she murmured.

"I see. And that would trouble you--even though we remained friends?"

She was silent.

"It has always been a puzzle to me," he said, "why money--which is the
most ordinary thing in life--is the one thing that friends scruple to
accept from each other. Gifts of any other description, all sorts of
sacrifices, down to life itself, are offered and taken with no scruple of
pride. But when it comes to money, which is of very small value in
comparison, people begin to worry. Why, Chris, what are pounds,
shillings, and pence between you and me? Surely we have climbed above
that sort of thing, haven't we?"

The tenderness of his tone moved her, in a fashion compelled her. She
went into his arms impulsively, she clung about his neck. Yet even then
her scruples were not quite laid to rest.

"But--Trevor dear--just supposing we quarrelled? We might, you know,
about Cinders or anything. And then--and then--"

"My dear," he said, "we certainly shall not quarrel about Cinders. I
can't for the life of me picture myself quarrelling with you under any
circumstances whatsoever. And even if we did, I don't think you would
hate me so badly as to grudge me the satisfaction of knowing that I had
been of use to you at an awkward moment. Don't you think we are getting
rather morbid, Chris?"

"I don't know," she said, clinging closer. "I only know that you are
miles and miles too good for me. And whatever makes you want me I can't
think."

He put his hand under her chin, and turned her face up to his own.
"I'll tell you another time. At the present moment I want to talk
about--getting married."

He spoke the last two words very softly, holding her close lest she
should shrink away.

But Chris, with her eyes on his, kept still and silent in his arms. Only
she turned rather white.

He continued with the utmost gentleness. "Your cousin is going to be
married on the fifteenth of this month. Can't we arrange our wedding for
the fifteenth of next?"

"The fifteenth!" said Chris. "Isn't that St. Swithin's Day?"

She spoke so briskly that even Mordaunt was for the moment taken by
surpris