She saw his hesitancy. 'He thinks there may be danger to me in these people. I had promised to go to Ethel before I knew who her husband was. But now ought I to change my mind and not go? Surely not. Nothing could be more absurd, more unwise, than that. To decline going would be to admit I had some uneasy feeling. I have none. I am as sure of myself as I am of my love. He is now using all the faculties of his mind to find out whether or not there would be danger for me in my going to Parkinson's. Harm for me after to-day! Harm for me in the face of the promise I made him, the vow I made to God to-day! I am placing George in a false position by being engaged to him, and at the same time causing him anxiety as to my power of keeping my promise to him. This must not be. I must never put George in a false position. What are all my life, all my interests, all my hopes, compared with him? Nothing. Oh, my love, I love you better than all things!' She raised her eyes to Mr Parkinson, and said, in a cheerful, light voice, 'I am sure Mr Osborne will not refuse you.' She bent over Osborne and touched him on the arm, saying, 'Your sister and you must come. I make this a condition to my going.' Osborne looked up at her and glanced at his sister, and said,-- 'Will you go, Kate?' 'As you please.' 'Then, Mr Parkinson, we shall be very happy to accept your invitation.' Parkinson had seen a look of worship in those grave manly eyes, and he had seen the answering look of love. He guessed how matters stood, and from that moment forward treated George as the responsible master of the party. Now Osborne felt more at ease than for any moment during the past four-and-twenty hours. He had secured his sweetheart, they had solemnly pledged their troth, and he had so clearly and firmly defined the position he should hold morally and spiritually, that he was no longer in fear of anything--in fact, he was less than indifferent to recent fears, and would rather court than shun the occasion of them.