Poor Alan had listened to this outburst in absolute silence, his one refuge under any strong emotion. Phyllis had spoken rapidly, like one who had gone over the ground with herself, and who was under pressure of strong excitement.
"Then you won't marry me?" said Alan. "I tell you, Phyllis, I won't give up. You say you are fond of me; I'll make you fonder. It's not a refusal; it's just a postponement. Forget I said anything about it. I'll get you yet to say yes. Have some tea; you look tired, and it's but natural you should not be cheerful with the parting before you, and you all saying good-by, as it were, to your girlhood. I had no right to bother you now. I was a selfish brute. We'll be the same friends, Phyllis; for I could not live without you, my girl."
Phyllis felt as though this determined young man, with the quiet, intense face and the eyes that were full of love for her, were something she could never escape, and the feeling frightened her.
"I don't want to marry; I have my work," she said.
"Oh, your work!" said Alan, with a man's and a fellow writer's scorn for a woman's career. "Fancy giving up love, and a home, and everything best in life for such a thing as writing! If you were as great as George Eliot it would be folly, Phyllis."
"The only reason for marrying is that some one is so necessary to you, you can't be happy without him," said Phyllis. "That's what I think."
"Quite right; so do I; and you are necessary to my happiness, my dear," said Alan, gravely.
"You are not necessary to me, Alan, though I should miss you dreadfully if I lost you. Oh, please, please don't think of this any more, but let us be friends as before," said Phyllis, with tears in her eyes.
"Don't mind, my dear; I'll call for your tea. And as to the rest, I'll be necessary to you, if humble trying can make me," said persistent Alan, quietly.
The wedding was at noon. The day dawned sunny, warm, and lovely, an ideal day for a wedding. Jessamy and Barbara were dressed early, and shut themselves in their mother's room for one last, sacred, grave little talk before they went forth to assume the vows which must always be solemn to those who remember how much they include, and who make them meaning to fulfil them to the end of life, however long it be.