Before he could make up his mind as to his answer she had
risen from her chair, and walked out of the room. Maurice almost
thought that he saw a tear in her eye as she went.
He did ride back to Spanish Town that afternoon, after an early
dinner; but before he went Marian spoke to him alone for one minute.
"I hope you are not offended with me," she said.
"Offended! oh no; how could I be offended with you?"
"Because you seem so stern. I am sure I would do anything I could to
oblige you, if I knew how. It would be so shocking not to be good
friends with a cousin like you."
"But there are so many different sorts of friends," said Maurice.
"Of course there are. There are a great many friends that one does
not care a bit for,--people that one meets at balls and places like
that--"
"And at picnics," said Maurice.
"'Well, some of them there too; but we are not like that; are we?"
What could Maurice do but say, "no," and declare that their
friendship was of a warmer description? And how could he resist
promising to go to the picnic, though as he made the promise he knew
that misery would be in store for him? He did promise, and then she
gave him her hand and called him Maurice.
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