What would it be like, the first few days together?

“Come and sit down,” Osborn begged, and he drew her to the one big chair, into which they both squeezed.  “I love you,” he said, “oh, I do love you!  And we can trust old Rokeby to look after your mother and Julia.  What a terror the girl is!”

“She hates men,” said Marie, with a pouting mouth.

“Then they will hate her and I don’t wonder,” the young man replied scornfully.

“Don’t let us talk about Julia.”

“No, let’s talk about us.  I bought the clock, darling.”

“The clock!  Did they knock down the price?”

“No, they didn’t,” said Osborn, “but you wanted it and that was good enough for me.”

Her eyes sparkled.  “You shouldn’t be extravagant on my account.”

“Let me kiss you,” said Osborn, “that’s all I want.  You liked the old clock, and it will look ripping in the hall, won’t it?”

“We shall be all oak now.”

“Say you’re pleased, then, you beautiful.”

“I am.  I did want that clock.  A grandfather clock—­I don’t know—­there’s something about it.”

“As for the price, sweetheart, why bother?  It’ll only add a few more instalments to the whole bally lump.  It will be all right.  I’ll get a rise soon—­married man, you know!  Responsibilities, you know!  Expenses!”

“Mother’s starting us with every kind of saucepan and broom and brush you can think of.”

“Bless her!”

“Osborn, it will be an awf’ly smart flat.”

“It will, with you in it.”

“No, but really.  Everyone will admire it.  I mean everyone to admire.  We’ll have some little dinner-parties, won’t we?”

“Will we, Cook?”

“I shall make the sweets beforehand, and we’ll have chafing-dish or casserole things.  That sort of dinner.  It’s quite smart, Osborn.  And dessert’s easy.  Julia’s giving us finger bowls, tip-top ones—­real cut-glass.”

“Bless her!”

“We’re starting awf’ly well, Osborn.”

“Do you think I don’t know that?  We love each other; nothing ever goes wrong when people love each other.  You’ll be glad enough to give up the office, too, won’t you?”

“Won’t I!”

“I know you will.  I hate to have you in a City office, with any bounder staring at you.  When you’re Mrs. Kerr only I can stare.”

“I like your confidence!”

“But I shall make up for everyone.  I shall stare all the time.”

“Shall you want to go to the club every evening?”

“I shan’t ever want to go to the club.”