She was sitting on one of the two rush-seated chairs, with her back to the door, when he came in, and she said at once—
“Sit down, Jon, I want to talk seriously.”
Jon sat on the table by her side, and without looking at him she went on:
“If you don’t want to lose me, we must get married.”
Jon gasped.
“Why? Is there anything new?”
“No, but I felt it at Robin Hill, and among my people.”
“But—” stammered Jon, “at Robin Hill—it was all smooth—and they’ve said nothing to me.”
“But they mean to stop us. Your mother’s face was enough. And my father’s.”
“Have you seen him since?”
Fleur nodded. What mattered a few supplementary lies?
“But,” said Jon eagerly, “I can’t see how they can feel like that after all these years.”
Fleur looked up at him.
“Perhaps you don’t love me enough.” “Not love you enough! Why—!”
“Then make sure of me.”
“Without telling them?”
“Not till after.”
Jon was silent. How much older he looked than on that day, barely two months ago, when she first saw him—quite two years older!
“It would hurt Mother awfully,” he said.
Fleur drew her hand away.
“You’ve got to choose.”
Jon slid off the table on to his knees.
“But why not tell them? They can’t really stop us, Fleur!”
“They can! I tell you, they can.”
“How?”
“We’re utterly dependent—by putting money pressure, and all sorts of other pressure. I’m not patient, Jon.”
“But it’s deceiving them.”
Fleur got up.
“You can’t really love me, or you wouldn’t hesitate. ’He either fears his fate too much!’”
Lifting his hands to her waist, Jon forced her to sit down again. She hurried on:
“I’ve planned it all out. We’ve only to go to Scotland. When we’re married they’ll soon come round. People always come round to facts. Don’t you see, Jon?”
“But to hurt them so awfully!”
So he would rather hurt her than those people of his! “All right, then; let me go!”
Jon got up and put his back against the door.
“I expect you’re right,” he said slowly; “but I want to think it over.”
She could see that he was seething with feelings he wanted to express; but she did not mean to help him. She hated herself at this moment and almost hated him. Why had she to do all the work to secure their love? It wasn’t fair. And then she saw his eyes, adoring and distressed.
“Don’t look like that! I only don’t want to lose you, Jon.”
“You can’t lose me so long as you want me.”
“Oh, yes, I can.”
Jon put his hands on her shoulders.
“Fleur, do you know anything you haven’t told me?”
It was the point-blank question she had dreaded. She looked straight at him, and answered: “No.” She had burnt her boats; but what did it matter, if she got him? He would forgive her. And throwing her arms round his neck, she kissed him on the lips. She was winning! She felt it in the beating of his heart against her, in the closing of his eyes. “I want to make sure! I want to make sure!” she whispered. “Promise!”