"But, Sir Thomas," and she attempted to draw her hand out of his.
"No, no," he said, clasping it still tighter. "Sit here by my side, and listen to what I say. I love you dearly, wisely, with all my heart. I will make you Lady Wynton to-morrow, if you desire it, and you and I—you and I—will take all those excellently planned journeys together. We will travel slowly and comfortably, luxuriously when we can; we will see everything worth seeing. We will take a long, long honeymoon trip, all over the world. Say 'yes,' Isabel. May I call you Isabel?"
"Yes."
"My Isabel."
"I am your sincere friend."
"My wife! I want you for my wife."
"A wedding means a great deal of trouble. It would keep me back."
"Not an hour. We will meet in Dr. Robertson's parlor, each with a friend or two. My carriage will be at his door, and as soon as the ceremony is over, we will drive to the railway station, and take a train for London, be in London for dinner, and ready next day to start Tour No. 1, first landing-place St. Petersburg; eh, dear? Say yes, say yes, Isabel. Do!"
And how could Isabel say anything but "yes"? It was the dream of her life coming true.
"This is Wednesday," he continued joyfully, "what do you say to next Monday? Can you be ready for Monday?"