Though her words and gestures were not in any way meant to influence Wilfrid, being entirely spontaneous on her part, they none the less appealed to his sense of chivalry. Her new state required that she should have a protector; and who should that protector be, if not Wilfrid? “If you are really bent on severing all connection with your former life,” said Wilfrid, as Marie again sat beside him, “we must not leave this spot without settling what your future course must be. For, to remain at Runö is to run the risk of being drawn back again into those old surroundings that you seem to dread. Now, I am going to suggest a plan that I trust will be for your welfare.” He certainly _had_ a plan, a delightful one; the difficulty was to find courage enough to put it into words. A delicious sensation of expectancy stole over Marie. Her eyes dared not meet his. “Well, what _is_ this plan?” she murmured, after waiting for a while. “I am beginning to think that you might not accept it.” “How can I say till I hear it?” “Cannot you guess its nature?” “I might guess wrongly. _Please_ tell me,” she said, stealing a witching glance at him from beneath her dark eyelashes, and encouraging him with a smile that showed a dazzling set of teeth. Wilfrid still fenced with the question, making it a matter of wonder to Marie that he, who had never been lacking in courage, should show such hesitation with her. How sweet to have such power over him! but how much sweeter it would be if he would only say the words she was longing to hear! “You said just now,” he remarked, “that you have been happy here. What has made you so?” “Many things. The malicious joy of being alive, when my enemies think me dead; the beautiful summer air; the waving woods of Runö; the quaint old castle, with its books and antiquities; the sweet doing-nothing all day long; the sense of freedom and irresponsibility; above all, Pauline’s kindness.” “Nothing more?” “Your—your friendship.” “You put that last, I see.” “No, Lord Courtenay, I put that first,” she said softly. And then——! Who made the first movement towards the other neither ever knew. Certain it is that Marie suddenly found herself returning Wilfrid’s passionate kiss and clinging to his embrace as if she meant never to part from it. In the stillness that followed, she could hear the wild beating of her heart above the ripple of the forest leaves. * * * * * “And do you really love me?” asked Marie, breaking the long spell of silence. “Do you doubt it?” “No, but you have not yet _said_ it. It will be sweet to hear it.” So Wilfrid said it, not once, but many times. “And is this,” she asked, with a significant pressure of her arms, “is this the plan you were speaking of?” “Yes; that you will entrust your future to my keeping: that you will come with me to England and be the Countess Courtenay.” The sound of this name gave her a sweeter sensation of pleasure than any she had yet felt.