nder those circumstances, I could make every allowance for him--and I
said so. He moved nearer to me; and put his arm round me.

"Are we not engaged to each other to be man and wife?" he whispered.

"Yes."

"Are we not both of age, and both free to do as we like?"

"Yes."

"Would you relieve me from the anxieties under which I am suffering, if
you could?"

"You know I would!"

"You _can_ relieve me."

"How?"

"By giving me a husband's claim to you, Lucilla--by consenting to marry
me in London, in a fortnight's time."

I started back, and looked at him in amazement. For the moment, I was
incapable of answering in any other way than that.

"I ask you to do nothing unworthy of you," he said. "I have spoken to a
relative of mine living near London--a married lady--whose house is open
to you in the interval before our wedding day. When your visit has been
prolonged over a fortnight only, we can be married. Write home by all
means to prevent them from feeling anxious about you. Tell them that you
are safe and happy, and under responsible and respectable care--but say
no more. As long as it is possible for Madame Pratolungo to make mischief
between us, conceal the place in which you are living. The instant we are
married reveal everything. Let all your friends--let all the world know
that we are man and wife!"

His arm trembled round me; his face flushed deep; his eyes devoured me.
Some women, in my place, might have been offended; others might have been
flattered. As for me--I can trust the secret to these pages--I was
frightened.

"Is it an elopement that you are proposing to me?" I asked.

"An elopement!" he repeated. "Between two engaged people who have only
themselves to think of."

"I have my father to think of; and my aunt to think of," I said. "You are
proposing to me to run away from them, and to keep in hiding from them!"

"I am asking you to pay a fortnight's visit at the house of a married
lady--and to keep the knowledge of that visit from the ears of the worst
enemy you have, until you have become my wife," he answered. "Is there
anything so very terrible in my request that you should turn pale at it,
and look at me in that frightened way? Have I not courted you with your
father's consent? Am I not your promised husband? Are we not free to
decide for ourselves? There is literally no reason--if it could be
done--why we should not be married to-morrow. And you still hesitate?
Lucilla! Lucilla! y