person in the world to object to your changing your name!"
"Why?" she asked raising her eyes to mine with a glance which shot through me. This was pure coquetry; she knew just as well as I did what I meant. All the same, however, I said:
"Because I too want you to change it!" She did not say a word, but looked down.
I was now sure of my ground, and without a word I bent over and kissed her. She did not draw back. Her arms went round me; and in an instant I had a glimpse of heaven.
Presently she put me away gently and said:
"There was another reason why I did not speak all that time. I can tell it to you now."
"Pardon me" I interrupted "but before you tell me, am I to take it that—well, what has just been between us—is an affirmative answer to my question?" Her teeth flashed as well as her eyes as she answered:
"Have you any doubt? Was there any imperfection in the answer? If so, perhaps we had better read it as 'no.'"
My answer was not verbal; but it was satisfactory to me. Then she went on:
"I can surely tell you now at all events. Have you still doubts?"
"Yes" said I, "many, very many, hundreds, thousands, millions, all of which are clamouring for instant satisfaction!" She said quietly and very demurely, at the same time raising that warning hand which I already well knew, and which I could not but feel was apt to have an influence on my life, though I had no doubt but that it would always be for good:
"Then as there are so many, there is not the slightest use trying to deal with them now."
