"What's that?" he asked a trifle thickly.

"Betty Malroy is going to marry me," said Norton. Carrington
gazed at him in silence.

"It's settled, is it?" he asked at length. He saw his own hopes
go down in miserable wreck; they had been utterly futile from the
first. He had known all along that Norton loved her, the young
planter had made no secret of it. He had been less frank.

"I swear you take it quietly enough," said Norton.

"Do I?"

"Can't you wish me joy?"

Carrington held out his hand.

"You are not going to take any risks now, you have too much to
live for," he said haltingly.

"No, I'm to keep away from Belle Plain," said Norton happily.
"She insists on that; she says she won't even see me if I come
there. Everything is to be kept a secret; nothing's to be known
until we are actually married; it's her wish--"

"It's to be soon then?" Carrington asked, still haltingly.

"Very soon."