Frank sprang to land and ran to the spot where Leycester had left his rod, and Leycester sculled up stream again for a few strokes, then he put the sculls down and leant forward, and seized Stella's hand. "He will see you," said Stella, blushing. "No, he will not," he retorted, and he bent until his lips touched her hand. "Stella, I want to speak to you very seriously. You must promise you will not be angry with me." Stella looked at him with a smile. "Is it so serious," she said, in that low, murmuring voice which a woman uses when she speaks to the man she loves. "Very," he said, gravely, but with the bold, defiant look in his eyes which presaged some bold, defiant deed. "Stella, I want you to marry me." Stella started, and her hand closed spasmodically on his. "I want you to marry me soon," he went on--"at once." "Oh, no, no!" she said, in a whisper, and her hand trembled in his. Marry him at once! The thought was so full of immensity that it overwhelmed her. "But it must be 'Yes! yes! yes!'" he said. "My darling, I find that I cannot live without you. I cannot! I cannot! You will take pity on me!" Take pity on him--the great Lord Leycester; the most popular man in London; the heir to Wyndward; the hero of whom Frank had been speaking so enthusiastically; while she was but Stella Etheridge, the painter's penniless niece. "What am I to say? what can I say?" she said, in a low voice, her eyes downcast, her heart beating fast. "I will tell you," he said. "You must say 'Yes,' my darling, to all I ask you." There was a moment's pause, in which she felt that indeed she must say 'Yes' to anything he asked her. "Listen, darling," he went on, caressing her hand, his eyes fixed on her face wistfully. "I have been thinking of this love of ours, thinking of it night and day, and I feel that you and I can do no good by waiting. You are happy--yes, because you are a woman; but I am not happy, because, perhaps, that I am a man. I shall not be happy until we are one--until you are my very own. Stella, we must be married at once." "Not at once," she pleaded. "At once," he said; and there was a strange, eager, impatient light in his eyes. "Stella, I can speak to you as I can speak to no one else--you and I are one in thought--you are my other self. My darling, I would go through fire to save you a moment's pain, not only pain, but uneasiness and annoyance." Her fingers closed on his hand, and her eyes, raised to his face for a moment, plainly said, "I believe it;" but her lips said nothing. "Stella, there would be pain and annoyance to you, if--if we were to make known our love. It is a foolish, stupid, idiotic world; but as the world is, we must accept it--we cannot alter it. If we were to declare our love, all sorts of people would be arrayed against us. Do you think your uncle would consent to it?" Stella thought a moment.