e some time to wait," she said, "before we can
think of that."

He passed this reply over without notice. "You know," he went on, "that
I have an income of five hundred a year?"

"Yes, dear."

"There are hundreds of thousands of respectable artisans, Regina, (with
large families), who live comfortably on less than half my income."

"Do they, dear?"

"And many gentlemen are not better off. Curates, for instance. Do you
see what I am coming to, my darling?"

"No, dear."

"Could you live with me in a cottage in the country, with a nice garden,
and one little maid to wait on us, and two or three new dresses in a
year?"

Regina lifted her fine eyes in sober ecstasy to the sky. "It sounds very
tempting," she remarked, in the sweetest tones of her voice.

"And it could all be done," Amelius proceeded, "on five hundred a year."

"Could it, dear?"

"I have calculated it--allowing the necessary margin--and I am sure
of what I say. And I have done something else; I have asked about the
Marriage License. I can easily find lodgings in the neighbourhood. We
might be married at Harrow in a fortnight."

Regina started: her eyes opened widely, and rested on Amelius with
an expression of incredulous wonder. "Married in a fortnight?" she
repeated. "What would my uncle and aunt say?"

"My angel, our happiness doesn't depend on your uncle and aunt--our
happiness depends on ourselves. Nobody has any power to control us. I am
a man, and you are a woman; and we have a right to be married whenever
we like." Amelius pronounced this last oracular sentence with his head
held high, and a pleasant inner persuasion of the convincing manner in
which he had stated his case.

"Without my uncle to give me away!" Regina exclaimed. "Without my aunt!
With no bridesmaids, and no friends, and no wedding-breakfast! Oh,
Amelius, what _can_ you be thinking of?" She drew back a step, and
looked at him in helpless consternation.

For the moment, and the moment only, Amelius lost all patience with her.
"If you really loved me," he said bitterly, "you wouldn't think of
the bridesmaids and the breakfast!" Regina had her answer ready in her
pocket--she took out her handkerchief. Before she could lift it to
her eyes, Amelius recovered himself. "No, no," he said, "I didn't mean
that--I am sure you love me--take my arm again. Do you know, Regina, I
doubt whether your uncle has told you everything that passed between us.
Are you really aware of the har