"I could promise that Lady Isabelle McLane would be present, and the best man would be the other."
"Quite so—but—when would you wish the ceremony to take place?"
"Say Sunday."
"But, my dear young lady—there are the fifteen days required by law—unless, of course, you have a special licence."
"Perhaps there is a special licence."
"Of course in that case everything is easy—but do nothing rash. Marriage is a most solemn covenant, and I should strongly advise that you speak to Mrs. Roberts. Indeed, I hardly know if I——"
"I have your word, Mr. Lambert. I'll come to you to-morrow, may I? and you'll talk to me earnestly, very earnestly, about it all. It will be decided then—and if I should wish it before early service Sunday morning, you would help me, I know. But remember, it's a secret, and oh, you're so kind!" And taking his hand, she kissed it.
"But, my dear," stammered the old man, quite flustered by this unexpected mark of affection, "you haven't even told me the gentleman's name."
Bending over, she whispered softly, "Lieutenant Kingsland," and fled out of the church.