“I respect your doubts and your scruples, Eustace; but I think you need not let them weigh too heavily in the balance against your own wishes and ours. I will take you into my confidence, and I think you will then see that even for Bride’s sake this thing is a good one. She does not know it, but I have a mortal illness upon me, which may carry me off at any moment, though I may perhaps be spared some few years longer. I myself consulted the physician whom we summoned for you, and he admitted that my life was a bad one, and that with my family history I must not look to be spared much longer. You know how lonely Bride would be were I taken from her. You can imagine how greatly I desire to see her settled in life with a husband to love and cherish her. Were I to die whilst you were thus laid aside, you must of necessity be separated, and where would Bride go? What would she do? Money is not everything. A home--a husband’s care--that is what a woman wants. Eustace, if you are made man and wife now, all this anxiety will be done away, and the happiness of all will be secured. Will you not consent? It all rests with you, for I desire it, and Bride desires it--I think you desire it----” “Only too much!” cried Eustace, with such a light in his eyes as had not been seen there for weeks, “only too much. I am afraid of my own intensity of desire.” “If that is all, we may dismiss the objection as frivolous,” said the Duke with a slight smile. “Then I have your consent to make the arrangements? I will go and tell Bride, and send her to you.” She came within half-an-hour, calm, tranquil, serene as ever, a lovely colour in her face, but no other outward sign of excitement or confusion. Her eyes sought his with one of those glances he had learned to look for and treasure; and when she came to his side she bent and kissed him, which hitherto she had not made a habit of doing. “Bride,” he said softly, getting possession of her hand, “is this true?” “Yes, Eustace,” she answered softly; “I do not think we can love each other more than we do; but we can belong to each other more when we have been joined together by God. That is what I want, to be one with you in His sight, so that nothing can part us more.” He looked earnestly at her, the love in his eyes as eloquent as it was in hers, and scarcely as much under control. “You are not afraid, my darling? You were afraid of trusting yourself to me once?” “Yes,” she answered gently; “I had not learned to love you then, and you had not learned love either. You have only learned that slowly, as I have learned it slowly myself.” “How do you know I have learned it--the love which you mean?” She looked at him with a smile that brought an answering smile to his face.