"Do you mind, dear?" he asked. "If so, if you would rather this were told, we will go together, you and I, and then we will go to the earl——"
"No, no," said Margaret, shrinking from such an ordeal, and longing—girl-like—to keep her delicious secret to herself for a little longer.
"It shall be as you wish, dearest," he said, frankly; "but there are reasons why it would be better for us to say nothing about our engagement. Look here, Margaret," he went on, earnestly, "I spoke the truth just now, when I said that I would like to proclaim my happiness to all the world, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be a good thing to do. It would be better not to do so, for your sake."
"For mine?" she said, looking into his dark eyes with a tender questioning.
"Yes. I don't want you to lose anything by your goodness to me, dear; that's natural enough, isn't it? And I am afraid you would lose a great deal if we declared our engagement."
"What should I lose?" she asked.
"You know, dear," he answered, "that I am the heir to my uncle's title and estates."
"I know," said Margaret.
She would not wound him by reminding him that she was the granddaughter of the earl's housekeeper, and penniless.
"Well, that's very good; and I wish I were the King of England, that I could make you the queen, Madge," he said, with a smile. "But in addition to the title and estates, mine uncle has a great deal of money, and if he likes he can leave that to us, or to anybody else."