Brigit will tell you them later. And there
are--clothes to be got, are there not? And I must go away in a few
days--to Madrid, and shall be gone three weeks. It might be well for you
to marry at once, say early in June, or--you might wait until the
autumn."
He lit a cigarette and Brigit drew a deep breath of relief. Thank God,
he was hedging, and could not make up his mind.
"I do not wish to wait," announced Theo, with unexpected and terrible
decision. "I can see no reason for it, _pere_. Brigit, let it be early
in June."
Joyselle's match fell to the floor, and his cigarette was still unlit.
"I think I have been patient," pursued the young man, his voice
trembling a little. "Ah, father, I love her, and I want my wife."
Joyselle's arm jerked and the unlit cigarette flew out into the
darkness. "You are right," he began abruptly, but Brigit drew nearer to
him and in the darkness laid her hand on his.
"He is right in one way, _Beau-pere_" she said, grasping his hand with
spasmodic strength, "and I am a brute, but I should so _much_ rather
wait a little longer. I have reasons, Theo."
Joyselle caught her hand in his, and gave a great laugh.
"Oh, _mes enfants, mes enfants_," he cried.
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