"And am I to wait till he is converted?"
"Wait at any rate till he is less violent. Bide your time, Mr. Townsend; remember the prize is great!"
Morris walked along some time in silence, tapping the railings and gateposts very sharply with his stick.
"You certainly are devilish inconsistent!" he broke out at last. "I have already got Catherine to consent to a private marriage."
Mrs. Penniman was indeed inconsistent, for a this news she gave a little jump of gratification.
"Oh! when and where?" she cried. And then she stopped short. Morris was a little vague about this.
"That isn't fixed; but she consents. It's deuced awkward, now, to back out."
Mrs. Penniman, as I say, had stopped short; and she stood there with her eyes fixed, brilliantly, on her companion.
"Mr. Townsend," she proceeded, "shall I tell you something? Catherine loves you so much that you may do anything."
This declaration was slightly ambiguous, and Morris opened his eyes.
