"I should have felt hurt," replied John with a happy smile, "if they had
asked anyone else to marry them. And you will be there, Colette?"
"Certainly," she declared. "I wouldn't miss it for anything."
"And--you will go with me, Colette?"
She colored, and her eyes drooped beneath his fixed gaze.
"Yes," she said, "I will go with you."
"Thank you, Colette," he answered gently, realizing what a surrender
this was, and deeming it wise not to follow up his victory immediately.
And at his reticence Colette was conscious of a shade of disappointment.
She began to feel an uncomfortable atmosphere in the silence that
ensued, so she broke it, speaking hastily and confusedly.
"Oh, John, there is something else they want of you. The request is made
by unanimous desire that you wear their surplice--that awful surplice!"
A shadow not unlike a frown fell athwart John's brow, and he made no
immediate reply.
The introduction of the unfortunate topic made them both self-conscious,
and for the first time Colette acknowledged to herself that she had been
in the wrong in the matter of the surplice. John, misinterpreting her
constraint, and fearing that the reference to the garment had revived
all her old resentment, arose to depart.
"I will wear it if they wish," he said stiffly.
"I, too, wish you would wear it," she said in a voice scarcely audible.
He looked at her in surprise, hope returning.
"To please them," she added, coloring.
"Colette!" There was a pleading in his voice that told her all she
longed to know. "Colette, don't you think I have been patient? Won't you
be friends again?"
"I will," she said, "after--the Boarder's and Lily Rose's wedding!"