"Look here—are we going to quarrel?" she asked.
"Is there any reason why we should?" Lawrence smiled.
"Not if we agree," answered the young girl, gravely, as she turned her head from him again.
"That means that we shan't quarrel if I agree with you, I suppose," observed the young man.
"Well, why shouldn't you?" asked Fanny, frankly. "You may just as well, you know. You will in the end."
"By Jove! You seem pretty sure of that!" Lawrence laughed.
Fanny said nothing in reply, but shortened the reins as the horses reached the top of the hill. Lawrence looked down towards the sea. The sun was very low, and the water was turning from sapphire to amaranth, while the dark islands gathered gold into their green depths.
"How beautiful it is!" exclaimed the artist, not exactly from impulse, though in real enjoyment, while consciously hoping that his companion would say something pleasant.
