And I hate them, too; yes, I do!'
Her impulsive words had power to impress him at any rate with the
recognition of the uncertainty of all that is not accomplished.
And, worse than that general feeling, there of course remained the
sadness which arose from the special features of his own case.
However remote a desired issue may be, the mere fact of having
entered the groove which leads to it, cheers to some extent with a
sense of accomplishment. Had Mr. Swancourt consented to an
engagement of no less length than ten years, Stephen would have
been comparatively cheerful in waiting; they would have felt that
they were somewhere on the road to Cupid's garden. But, with a
possibility of a shorter probation, they had not as yet any
prospect of the beginning; the zero of hope had yet to be reached.
Mr. Swancourt would have to revoke his formidable words before the
waiting for marriage could even set in. And this was despair.
'I wish we could marry now,' murmured Stephen, as an impossible
fancy.
'So do I,' said she also, as if regarding an idle dream. ''Tis
the only thing that ever does sweethearts good!'
'Secretly would do, would it not, Elfie?'
'Yes, secretly would do; secretly would indeed be best,' she said,
and went on reflectively: 'All we want is to render it absolutely
impossible for any future circumstance to upset our future
intention of being happy together; not to begin being happy now.
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