"How very sweet of her--of you both!" said Dinah. "I feel like Cinderella
being dressed for the ball. Oh, what lovely pearls! I never saw anything
so exquisite."
She had opened an inner case and was literally revelling in its contents.
"They were--her husband's wedding present to her," said Scott in his
rather monotonous voice.
"How lovely it must be to be married!" said Dinah, with a little sigh.
"Do you think so?" said Scott.
She turned in her chair to regard him. "Don't you?"
"I can't quite imagine it," he said.
"Oh, can't I!" said Dinah. "To have someone in love with you, wanting no
one but you, thinking there's no one else in the world like you. Have you
never dreamt that such a thing has happened? I have. And then waked up to
find everything very flat and uninteresting."
Scott was intent upon fastening an old gold brooch in the red kerchief
above her forehead. He did not meet the questioning of her bright eyes.
"No," he said. "I don't think I ever cajoled myself, either waking or
sleeping, into imagining that anybody would ever fall in love with me to
that extent."
Dinah laughed, her upturned face a-brim with merriment. "If any woman
ever wants to marry you, she'll have to do her own proposing, won't she?"
she said.
"I think she will," said Scott.
"I wish Rose de Vigne would fall in love with you then," declared Dinah.
"Men are always proposing to her, she leads them on till they make
perfect idiots of themselves.
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