“Why not? you have already promised one day to be so; why not fulfill that promise at once, and let me know you irrevocably mine before I leave you?” “Do you doubt me, then? do you mistrust my faith?” asked she, hesitatingly. “If I did, Hilary, I should never have urged such a request; if _I_ thought you would change, I should have small wish to make you my wife. No, it is no selfish desire to secure any good to myself, or to gratify a jealous and mistrustful affection, dearest; it is your own comfort and welfare which occupy my mind.” “I believe it,” said she, frankly, placing her hand in his; “and as I have promised to be one day your wife, I will make no foolish and idle objections. But――” “But what, love?” “I do not see the reason, the occasion, the propriety of this step; so sudden――I had not thought of it.” “I am aware that there are objections, but they seem to me slight compared with the advantages of the measure,” said he, gravely. “What say you, Sybil, does it shock you so much?” “No, indeed!” cried she, speaking with all the enthusiasm of a happy young wife, “I think there would be no harm, if there is time.” “We could manage that, unless Hilary is very particular about her gown and bonnet,” said he, smiling; “and even such things can be got in London, on the shortest notice, if she wants them.” “Ah, no, I do not care for that,” said Hilary; “but tell me what you ask, and why, and give me time to think and breathe; if I were to――to do this――I can not leave my father, even to follow you, Captain Hepburn.” “No, that is not what I mean; don’t be so frightened, and look so pale, dear Hilary; we move out of dock and drop down the river on Saturday, probably about the middle of the day; what I ask is, that early on that morning, you would meet me at the church here, and become my wife; the business part I will arrange. Your whole party could come with you to Woolwich, your father and all; and Maurice would be there too; surely that would secure respectability enough! and then when I leave you, you shall be as much your own mistress with regard to your movements as ever. Hurstdene can be your home during your father’s life, Hilary; but should you lose that, before I return, you would have at least the additional protection which the name of a married woman can confer; and in this country that is of no small importance. And, Hilary, then you would be forever safe from the intrusions, the attentions, the insidious friendship of Mr. Huyton.” “Do you fear him?” said she, looking up. “I mistrust him; as to _fear_, that is not the word. Once my wife, and you will be safe, there will be nothing for him to hope more, and, perhaps his passion will really expire; but till then, I am certain he will continue to haunt you, and his disposition makes me tremble.” “You judge him hardly,” said Sybil; “you are a prejudiced rival.”