The Unwanted Wedding

It was a relief when finally the dinner came to an end and, the Duke having said he did not wish for port, they walked together back to the sitting room where they had met before dinner.

Honora went at once to look at the bookshelves, recognising many books she had already read and a great number she wished to read.

She walked from shelf to shelf until she suddenly thought that perhaps she was being rude and she should, in fact, be talking to the Duke.

Is that love, Papa?”
“I suppose you could call it that,” her father answered, “but love, my darling, is something that cannot be turned on like a tap. Either it is there, or it is not, and no amount of tears, words or pleas can produce it.”

“Of course that is what it is,” her father had said. “A game in which two people are meant to enjoy themselves with no regrets and no recriminations.”