At Love's Cost

"You shall do 'em all," he said, putting his arm round her. "See here,

Ida, I've been thinking about ourselves--"

"Do you ever think of anything else? I don't," she said, half

unconsciously.

--"And I've made up my mind to take the bull by the horns--"

"Is that meant for my father or yours?"

"Both," he replied. "We've been so happy this last fortnight--is it a

fortnight ago since I got you to tell me that you cared for me? Lord!

it seems a year sometimes, and at others it only seems a minute!--that

we haven't cared to think of how we stand; but it can't like this

forever, Ida. You see, I want you--I want you all to myself, for every

hour of the day and night instead of for just the few minutes I've the

good luck to snatch. Directly this affair of my governor's is finished

I shall go to him and tell him I'm the happiest, the luckiest man in

the world; I shall tell him everything exactly how we stand--and ask

him to help us with your father."

Ida sighed and looked grave.

"I know, dearest," he said, answering the look. "But your father has to

be faced some time, and I--Ida, I am impatient. I want you. Now, as I

daresay you have discovered, I am rather an idiot than otherwise, and

the worst man in the world to carry out anything diplomatically; but my

father--" He laughed rather ruefully. "Well, they say he can coax a

concession out of even the Sultan of Turkey; that there is no one who

can resist him; and I know I shall be doing the right thing by telling

him how we stand."

She leant her elbows on her knees and her chin in the palms of her

hands.

"It shall be as you say, my lord and master," she said; "and when you

tell him that you have been so foolish as to fall in love with a little

Miss Nobody, who lives in a ruined tumble-down house, and is as poor

and friendless as a church mouse, do you think he will be

delighted--that the great and all-powerful Sir Stephen Orme will throw

up his hat for joy and consider that you have been very wise?"

"I think when he sees you--What is that?" he broke off.

"That" was a lady riding across the moor behind them. She was mounted

on one of the Orme horses, was habited by Redfern, who had done justice

to her superb and supple figure, and the sunlight which poured from

between the clouds fully revealed the statuesque beauty of her face.