"I don't take anything for granted, dearest. I only put it before you. I
talked it over with Brierly--he sent you a message--"
"But I don't know him!" cried Marcia. "And I don't know that I want to know
him. I'm not sure I think as you do, Edward. You assume that I do--but
indeed--indeed--my mind is often in confusion--great confusion--I don't
know what to think--about many things."
"The Church decides for us, darling--that is the great comfort--the great
strength."
"But what Church? Everybody chooses his own, it seems to me! And you know
that that Roman priest who was at Hoddon Grey the other day thinks you just
as much in the wrong as--well, as he'd think me!--_me_, even!" She
gave a little tremulous laugh. Then, with a quick movement she sat erect.
Her great, dark eyes fixed him eagerly. "And Edward, I've got something
so different, so very different to talk to you about! I've been so
unhappy--all night, all to-day. I've been pining for you to come--and then
afraid what you'd say--"
She broke off, her lips parting eagerly, her look searching his.
And this time, as she watched him, she saw his features stiffen, as though
a suspicion, a foreboding ran through him.
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