"I beg you won't do that!" said I, wiping my face.
"But I like to, Peregrine."
"Why, pray?"
"Because you are such--oh, such a Peregrine!"
"That sounds ridiculous, Diana!"
"But means a lot, Peregrine. But tell me, if you can make your wife a
real lady, you must be a gentleman and rich--are you?"
"I shall have a sufficiently comfortable fortune when I come of age."
"You will be rich and grand--like your aunt?"
"I suppose so."
"Without working for it?"
"Of course; I shall inherit it from my father."
"Any one could get rich that way, couldn't they? And when will you get
your money, Peregrine?"
"In two years' time. Meanwhile, by writing to my uncles, I can procure
all the money I need."
"Why don't you?"
"I propose doing so at the very earliest opportunity." At this she
turned and looked at me with her direct, unswerving gaze, so that I
grew suddenly uncomfortable. "You don't doubt my word, do you, Diana?"
I questioned, glancing down at my grotesque attire.
"No, Peregrine, I don't think you could deceive any one. Only I was
wondering what brings the like o' you padding the roads dressed
like--like you are."
Hereupon, sitting down beside her, I told my story at large, much as I
have written it here, to all of which she listened with such deep
interest and grave attention as gratified me not a little. When at
last I had ended my narrative, she sat, chin in hand, staring down at
the rippling waters so long that I must needs ask what she was
thinking.
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