“Then the ravings of a maniac would drive you out of your home, even after we had been all in all to each other; and you ought to have learned to trust me.” “I am afraid it would. To take another woman’s place would be such a terrible wrong. Indeed, I don’t think I ought to marry you at all, only--only I am so wicked, so horrible. I would rather be your wife a little while than never at all. And you swear that you are free?” “I swear it!” he answered solemnly and firmly. “Then I won’t trouble about all these horrors any more. After all, any man might be married secretly--who is to know? And you always must trust to his word, mustn’t you? If I had never seen that woman at Borton Hall, it would not have occurred to me to ask the question. I should have made so sure it was all right.” “And it is all right now, you foolish child. Do I look like a malefactor and a scoundrel?” “No; you look very nice,” Lady Gwendolyn admitted, with a blush. “But not nice enough to be trusted, it seems. However, I’ll teach you that later, my love; _en attendant_, you may as well fix our wedding-day.” “This day three months,” said Lady Gwendolyn demurely; “unless you think that too soon.” “You little witch! If you don’t take care I will insist upon its taking place in three days!” retorted Colonel Dacre. “But I am not obliged to obey.” “Oh! I shall use coercive measures. But seriously, very seriously, Gwen, you are paining me by all these objections. If you don’t love me, leave me. Heaven knows I do not want an unwilling wife; but if you pretend to care for me, act up to your profession. I have put you to the test, and if you fail me, I shall get away out of the country as fast as I can, and try and forget the woman who has spoiled my whole life. I have made all my arrangements to leave England on Wednesday. Will you come with me or not? I warn you fairly that I am not poor spirited enough ever to give you another chance of fooling me. If once I leave you behind, we shall never meet again on this side of the grave.” His decided tone startled Gwendolyn. She saw she had found a lover at last who would not be played fast and loose with, and she began to respect Colonel Dacre as much as she had loved him. To have parted with him forever would have broken her heart outright, and as she could only keep him one way, she must make the sacrifice he demanded. To do Lady Gwendolyn justice, she was not wont to give grudgingly when she did give. So that having decided to accord what he asked, she made the gift sweeter by the grace with which she gave. All his long life Colonel Dacre would remember the smile that lighted up her blushing face as she put her hand into his, and murmured: “I will marry you when you like, Lawrence, and trust you whatever betide.” If Lady Gwendolyn had kept the second promise as she kept the first, how much sorrow it would have saved them both. CHAPTER XVIII. A HAPPY BRIDE.