e room, opened the door, and stood with the knob in his
hand, waiting for me to pass through. I stiffened my back and stood
still. I told myself that to give in--_after that_--meant that I
agreed--practically gave my consent. I would _not_ do it! I would
_not_! I would stand all day rather than move an inch. Nothing should
induce me. He rattled the knob, and stared steadily in my face. I
turned and--_went_!

"Evelyn Wastneys, will you take this man to be your wedded husband?"

I had come back again--in my blue dress!--and he met me on the
threshold, where I verily believe he had been standing waiting, all the
time I changed. He took both my hands in his, and asked the question so
deeply and seriously that it brought the tears to my eyes.

"I think I--will!" I said shakily. "But you must not be too sudden
with me, please, because I was so certain that I never would. You must
give me time to get used to the idea."

"You can really love me? You can really manage to care?"

"I can! The difficulty lately has been--the other way! When you didn't
come I was afraid. I had a horrible conviction that you'd changed your
mind."

He laughed, and drew me closer, wrapping me close in his strong arms. I
lay still, and felt as if all my burdens were rolling away, and a big
strong barrier hedged me in and protected me from the buffets and
responsibilities of life. It was a blissful feeling--full of joy, full
of rest. Now it seemed worth while having been a lonely woman. No
sheltered, home-living girl could possibly have rejoiced as I rejoiced.

"You are mine! I'll take care of you. No more rushing about, and
living in disguise."

"I don't want to ramble. Never did! I want a home, and my own man. Do
you remember when you said you would give me my own way--in reason?"

"And you objected that I would wish to come first? I do."

"Bless your lonely heart! So do I. I'm afraid I shall spoil you,
Ralph!"

"Oh, do!" he cried, and there was a hunger in his voice that sank deep
in my heart. He needed me! How good it was to know that, to realise
that in all the teeming millions in the world no woman could be to him
that I was!

Later on--after a blissful interlude--I began to ask questions:--

"What will your mother say? Will she be surprised?"

"She'll be delighted, for my sake, and her own! At the bottom of her
heart she has always longed to be with her girl. And she's prepared.
She recognised the