"I am glad of that," says Tita. "Because I love her more than anyone
I know. And I have been thinking"--she looks at him quickly--"I have
been thinking that"--nervously--"that when I marry you, Miss Knollys
will be my cousin, too, in a sort of way, and that perhaps she will
let me call her by her name. Do you," anxiously, "think she will?"

"I know she will." His answer is terse. He has barely yet recovered
from the shock she had innocently given him.

"And your mother?" asks she, going back to the first question. "Do
you think she will like you to marry me? Oh, do persuade her!"

"Make no mistake about my mother, Tita; she will receive you with
open arms." He feels as if he were lying when he says this, yet is
it not the truth? "She will be glad to receive you as a daughter."

"Will she? She doesn't look like it," says Tita, "not sometimes
when I--_look back at her!"_

She rises, and makes a step towards the door of the conservatory
that will lead her to the balcony, and so back to the dancing-room.

"Tita? Bear with my mother," says he gently, and in a low voice.

The girl turns to him, her whole young, generous heart in her voice.
"Oh, I shall! I shall indeed!"

They traverse the long balcony in silence. The moon is flooding it
with brilliant light. Here and there are groups in twos or
threes--the twos are most popular. Just as they come to the entrance