"Is she?" he said, smiling down at her. "To me there is only one beautiful face in the world, and—it is here," and he touched it with his finger—"here—my very own. But what is Lenore to us to-night, my darling? Why do you speak of her?"
"Because—shall I tell you?"
He nodded, looking down at her.
"Because they said—Lady Lilian said, that——" she stopped.
"Well?"
"That they wished you to marry her," she whispered.
He laughed, his short laugh.
"She might say the same of several young ladies," he said. "My mother is very anxious on the point. Yes, but wishes are not horses, or one could probably be persuaded to mount and ride as their parents wish them—don't that sound wise and profound? I shall not ride to Lady Lenore; I have ridden to your feet, my darling!"
"And you will never ride away again," she murmured.
"Never," he said. "Here, by your side, I shall remain while life lasts!"