I am sure any one would be terribly shocked to read what I have written, but not so much if they knew Robert, and how utterly adorable he is. And how masterful, and simple, and direct! He does not split straws, or bandy words. I had made the admission that I loved him, and that was enough to go upon! As we walked alone I tried to tell him it was impossible, that I must go back to Christopher, that Lady Ver would think I had broken my word about it. I did not, of course, tell him of her bargain with me over him, but he probably guessed that, because before we got into the hansom even, he had begun to put me through a searching cross-examination as to the reasons for my behaviour at Tryland, and Park Street, and the Opera. I felt like a child with a strong man, and every moment more idiotically happy, and in love with him. He told the cabman to drive to Hammersmith, and then put his arm round my waist again, and held my hand, pulling my glove off backwards first. It is a great big granny muff of sable I have, Mrs. Carruthers’ present on my last birthday. I never thought then to what charming use it would be put! “Now I think we have demolished all your silly little reasons for making me miserable,” he said. “What others have you to bring forward as to why you can’t marry me in a fortnight?” I was silent--I did not know how to say it--the principal reason of all. “Evangeline--darling,” he pleaded. “Oh, why will you make us both unhappy--tell me at least.” “Your brother, the Duke,” I said, very low. “He will never consent to your marrying a person like me with no relations.” He was silent for a second,--then, “My brother is an awfully good fellow,” he said, “but his mind is warped by his infirmity. You must not think hardly of him--he will love you directly he sees you, like everyone else.” “I saw him yesterday,” I said. Robert was so astonished. “Where did you see him?” he asked. Then I told him about meeting Lady Merrenden, and her asking me to luncheon, and about her having been in love with papa, and about the Duke having looked me through and through with an expression of dislike. “Oh, I see it all!” said Robert, holding me closer. “Aunt Sophia and I are great friends, you know, she has always been like my mother, who died when I was a baby. I told her all about you when I came from Branches, and how I had fallen deeply in love with you at first sight, and that she must help me to see you at Tryland; and she did, and then I thought you had grown to dislike me, so when I came back she guessed I was unhappy about something, and this is her first step to find out how she can do me a good turn--oh! she is a dear!” “Yes, indeed she is,” I said. “Of course she is extra interested in you if she was in love with your father! So that is all right, darling, she must know all about your family, and can tell Torquilstone. Why, we have nothing to fear!”