"There is no fear. Nothing can ever be done without risk; but there is no risk there--at least, none that I fear to run. I guarantee that not one person in that church hears those names clearly. Then you will see that I have arranged every detail. Then, when the three weeks have expired, we will meet there some fine morning and be married. I have a friend who will come with me as a witness. After that I propose that we go to London, and there I shall introduce you to my father first; then we will go down to Cawdor to my mother. Do you like the plan, Leone?" "I should like it much better if they could know of it beforehand," she replied, gravely. His face grew grave as her own. "That cannot be," he replied. "You see, Leone, I am not of age; I shall not be twenty-one until September: and if my parents knew of it, they have power to forbid the marriage, and we could not be married; but done without their knowledge, they are of course powerless." "I do not like it," she said, with a shudder; "I would rather all was open and sincere." "It cannot be. Why, Leone, where is your reason? If even your uncle knew, he would interfere to prevent it. In his slow, stolid, honest mind he would think such a marriage quite wrong, you may be sure; he would talk about caste, and position, and all kinds of nonsense. We must keep our secret to ourselves, my darling, if we wish to be married at all. Surely, Leone, you love me enough to sacrifice your wishes to me on this point?" The beautiful face was raised to his. "I love you well enough to die for you, and far too well to bring trouble on you, Lance." "My darling, there is only one thing that can bring trouble on me, and that would be to lose you; that would kill me. You hear me, Leone, it would not make me grow thin and pale, after the fashion of rejected lovers, but it would kill me. Do not ask me to leave you an hour longer than I need. Ah, my love, yield: do not grieve me with a hundred obstacles--not even with one. Yield, and say that you will agree to my plan." There was no resisting the pleading of the handsome young face, the loving eyes, the tender words, the passionate kisses; she could not resist them; it was so sweet to be loved so well. "You must keep our secret from that honest, stolid, good uncle of yours," said Lord Chandos, "or he will think himself bound to call and tell Dr. Hervey. You promise me, then, Leone, my love, to do what I ask, and to be my own beloved wife, when the three weeks are over?" "Yes, I promise, Lance," she replied. Her voice was grave and sweet, her beautiful face had on it the light of a beautiful and noble love. "Then kiss me, as the children say, of your own accord, and let that kiss be our betrothal." She raised her lips to his for the first time and kissed him. "That is our betrothal," he said; "now nothing can part us. Leone, I waited for your promise to give you this." He opened a small jewel-case, and took from it a diamond ring.