He watched her face, caressing her hand. "You will love my mother, dear. She is a type of English womanhood. She is not strong, and has lived a retired life for many years. Our house may be quiet for you—at first." "Oh, don’t worry about that. I’ll make it lively enough." "Darling!" He tried to draw her into his arms, but she resisted him. "Wait." "What more, pretty penitent?" "Yes. I want you to promise me that when I’m mad and want to do inconsistent things, and have my own way—when it’s not good for me—I want you to promise me, no matter how much you love me—that you won’t give in." He laughed at her earnest little face. "I’m afraid I shall—I feel now as if I shall let you do anything, I love you so." "Then I won’t marry you. I’ve tried to control myself, but I can’t, because everybody’s so afraid of me. It makes me much worse. You’re the first man I’ve ever taken seriously." "Do you love me, Indiana?" "No. I’m tired of the model farm—I’m tired of Grandma Chazy—I’m tired of Washington and New York, and I want to go to England." His expression sank at this frank avowal, only to change again at her next words. "I—I feel that marriage to me must mean the changing of every condition—or—" she looked imploringly into his anxious eyes, "I won’t make a success of my life—and I want to be something more than I am—something better." She added quickly, "And, I wouldn’t marry you, if I did not think I could love you—some day." "I believe in the love which comes after marriage," he said firmly. "Given a fairly matched pair, the man the stronger, and there’s no danger. I’m sure I shall make you love me." "And you promise—" "I promise, no matter how much I suffer, I won’t give in." He clasped her into his arms, and kissed her passionately. A sudden wave of color surged over her face, and she drew herself away, with downcast eyes. He watched her anxiously, holding her hand. Then he persuaded her to sit down beside him on the moss-grown trunk. "A little sleeping soul has been given my into my care," he thought, smoothing her hair gently. "I must cherish it until it wakes. After waiting—after infinite patience—her love, when given, will be all the sweeter. I shall prize it more than if it had been easily won. We must wait for the most precious things in life. That is the supreme lesson to learn—how to wait—so we shall be worthy of life’s golden gift, when it comes. It must come—the very power of my own love for her—the very force of my will, must bring it. Life owes it to me—her love." He touched his lips to her hair. "Now, let’s go and tell the folks," said Indiana. *CHAPTER XIII.* *England.* "Jennings!" "Yes, yer leddyship!" "I thought I heard carriage wheels." "Not yet, yer leddyship." Lady Canning sighed, and Jennings sank stiffly on his knees and poked the fire, as he had done innumerable times within the hour.