Truthfulness is a pretty good thing after all.
So Jane was conquered at last, and I heaved a sigh as the battle ended, for it had been a long, hard struggle.
I asked Jane when we should be married, but she said she could not think of that now—not until she knew that Mary was safe; but she would promise to be my wife sometime. I told her that her word was as good as gold to me; and so it was and always has been; as good as fine gold thrice refined. I then told her I would bother her no more about it, now that I was sure of her, but when she was ready she should tell me of her own accord and make my happiness complete. She said she would, and I told her I believed her and was satisfied. I did, however, suggest that the intervening time would be worse than wasted—happiness thrown right in the face of Providence, as it were—and begged her not to waste any more than necessary; to which she seriously and honestly answered that she would not.
We went back to the castle, and as we parted Jane said timidly: "I am glad I told you, Edwin; glad it is over."
She had evidently dreaded it; but—I was glad, too; very glad. Then I went to bed.