"It is to be hoped so!" said I.

"And your curls all cut off!"

"I never thought you'd notice--"

"And you seem more cocksure than ever--"

"Cocksure is an ugly word, Diana."

"So I think I liked you better as you were."

"Good!" said I, climbing back into the cart. "It remains for me to
make you like me best--as I am."

"How?"

"By marrying you."

"But you don't--we ain't in love with each other or any such
silliness," said she, flicking idly at the hedge with the whip.

"I'm not so sure, Diana. Indeed, I begin to think I do--love you in a
way--or may do soon."

"Oh, do you?"

"I do!"