"But I--don't love you, and you don't love me--and never can!" said
she at last.
"No!" I answered. "Nevertheless, my honour demands it!"
"What is honour?" she questioned wistfully.
"It is another name for duty!" I answered. "And my duty is to guard
you from all evil or suspicion of evil."
"What evil, Peregrine?"
"The evil of vile tongues."
"But they can't make us evil, whatever they say of us."
"But what of your maidenly reputation?" I demanded. "That hateful
peddler-fellow and vile old hag will make your name a byword--O,
decidedly I must marry you!"
"Because of your duty?"
"And because it will resolve all my other difficulties with regard to
your education; for instance, I will send you to the best and most
select young ladies' academy--"
"What sort of a thing is that, Peregrine?"
"A place where ladies are educated in all the higher branches and
taught deportment and all the refinements and usages of polite
society."
"O!" exclaimed Diana, and sent up a sparkling shower of water with a
flirt of her white foot.
"Furthermore," I continued, wiping my cheek--for some of this water
had splashed me, "furthermore, Diana, you need never fear the future
any longer, because as my--my wife, you would of course lack for
nothing."
"Meaning as you'd find me plenty to eat and drink, Peregrine?"
"Heavens, yes, child!" I exclaimed. "You would be a lady of some
position in society."
"A lady--O!" she exclaimed, and flirted her foot again.
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