She did not speak; she looked at him for a moment, and then nestled her sweet face against his breast. "Tell me, my dear one," urged John; "will there be no change in your love?" Again May looked up, and this time her rosy lips parted. "Mine is a love that can not change, John," she murmured below her breath. "Be it so, then," said John Temple, almost solemnly, and he looked up to the blue sky as he spoke, and made an inward vow. "Neither will my love change," he said aloud the next moment; "for weal or woe then, May, our future will be together." They did not speak for a short while after this. John drew May closer to his breast, and she leaned there at rest and happy. A great content seemed to overflow her being. She was with John. John had just said they should never part. Presently John broke the sweet silence that seemed like heaven to the girl's heart. "It will not be all smooth sailing, you know, May," he said. She looked up inquiringly. "I mean," continued John Temple, with a sort of effort, "that our marriage, for a time at least, will have to be a secret one. There are several reasons for this; one is that my uncle would oppose it, and the other that Mrs. Temple has taken a very absurd prejudice against your family on account of the death of her boy." "How is that?" asked May, quickly. "It seems that one or both of your brothers played in the game of football when poor young Phil Temple was killed, and his mother foolishly--for she is a foolish woman--has taken it into her head that one of your brothers gave him the fatal blow on the head. She has had a dream, or some nonsense or other, and she assured me gravely last night that she heard her boy's voice say distinctly twice in one night, 'One of the Churchills killed me.' It's fancy, no doubt," continued John Temple, as he saw May's rosy bloom beginning to fade; "but you see it makes things for us more difficult." "Yes, I see," said May, slowly. "In fact, my dear one, there is nothing for it but a secret marriage," went on John, decidedly. "I have thought it all over--what would be best for us both--that is if you truly love me, May?" "I do, I do!" answered May, with such emotion that her eyes grew misty with unshed tears. "Then I will tell you my plans. They are that you should leave here at once; go up to town alone. Do not be frightened; a home will be ready for you with two very respectable old ladies, who keep a lodging-house, or rather did, in Bayswater. I lodged with them once when I was much younger, and I was such a favorite of theirs we have always kept up a kind of acquaintance. They have retired from the lodging-house business, but I will write and ask them to receive my young cousin, Miss Churchill, for a short time, and I know they will gladly do so. In a fortnight I will join you, and we will be married from their house, and all the good people here will be none the wiser. Will you consent to this?"