"For our father's sake, pray that it may do, Marian dear," I answered, gravely. "And now run along to bed, I have some writing to do."
She lingered by my side.
"Hugh, what are you going to do now? You will leave here, I suppose?"
"I must, Marian. Unless Sir Francis desires otherwise, I shall remain here until he has found some one else to take my place, though it will be as Hugh Arbuthnot, his agent, only, and into Devereux Court I will not go again. It will be well for Rupert Devereux, too, that he keeps out of my way," I added to myself. "When does Mr. Holdern want to marry you, Marian?" I asked her suddenly, changing the subject.
She blushed up to her eyes, and looked at me half pleased, half reproachfully.
"Hugh! How could you ask me like that? I—I don't quite know."
"Because you'll have to go away with me, you know," I continued. "I can't leave you behind."
She looked serious enough now.
"Of course you can't, Hugh. I don't think I ought to leave you at all. You'll be alone if I do, with no one to look after you."
I pretended to look serious, as though considering the matter, but her piteous expression and quivering lips were irresistible, and I broke into a reassuring laugh.