"I know what you mean," she said, in a low voice. "No, uncle would not consent. But it is not that only. Lady Wyndward--the earl--no one of your people would consent." His lips curled. "About their consent I care little," he said, in the quiet, defiant manner peculiar to him. "But I do care for your happiness and peace of mind, and I fear they might make you unhappy and--uncomfortable. So, Stella, I think you and I had better walk to church one fine morning, and say 'nothing to nobody.'" Stella started. "Secretly, do you mean? Oh, Leycester!" "My darling! Is it not best? Then when it is all over, and you are my very own, nobody will say anything, because it will be no good to say anything! Stella, it must be so! If we waited until we got everybody's consent, we might wait until we were as old as Methuselah!" "But uncle!" murmured Stella. "He has been so good to me." "And I will be good to you!" he murmured, with such sweet significance that the beautiful face crimsoned. "He only wants to see you happy, and I will make you happy, my darling--my own!" As he spoke he took her hand, and held it to his lips as if he never meant to part with it, and Stella could not find a word to say. If she had found a word it would have been 'Yes.' He was silent a moment--thinking. Then he said-- "Stella, you think I have some plan ready, but I have not. I would not even think of a plan till I got your consent. Now I have got your consent--I have, haven't I?" Stella was silent, but her hand closed over his. "I will think. I will make a plan. We shall want some one to help us." He thought a moment, then he looked up with a smile. "I know! It shall be--Frank!" "Frank!" exclaimed Stella. He nodded. "Yes, I like him. I like him because he likes you. Stella, that boy adores you." Stella smiled. "He is a dear good boy." "He shall help us. He shall be our Mercury, and carry messages. Do you know, Stella, that you and I have never written to each other since we have been engaged? When I was in London, I longed for some memento of you, some written line, something you had touched. You will write now, darling, and Frank shall act as messenger. I will think it all out, and send you word, if I do not see you. Frank and I must be good friends. It is quite true that the boy adores you. I can see it in his eyes. That is no wonder--anybody, everybody who knows you must adore you, my darling."