"Not much danger of that, as she saw you married this morning."
"But Mr. Stanley doesn't know that Miss Fitzgerald was present at our wedding. Now, if I could tell him so——"
"Um!" murmured the Lieutenant thoughtfully. "On the whole, I don't think I would. It wouldn't be quite fair to Belle."
"To Miss Fitzgerald?"
"To Miss Fitzgerald. At least you must gain her consent first."
"But why should she object?"
"Well, to speak quite frankly, her own position in the matter was open to question. You see, she had some difficulty in arranging the private marriage, and, out of friendship to me, she did and said certain things of which an over-conscientious person, like our friend the Secretary, might disapprove."
"Jack!" she cried, frightened. "Tell me the truth. Swear to me that our marriage was a true marriage—was legal."
"I swear it, my darling. Hadn't you the special licence to prove it? My remarks only referred to the means she used to induce the parson to keep his mouth shut. Not discreditable at all, you understand, and some day, when I'm at liberty to explain it, you'll see—but we owe it to her to keep quiet about the whole affair."
"I don't like it, dear—it doesn't sound honest."