"He hated me," said Beatrice sadly; "he always did. Before he died he told me to expect nothing, and I am a pauper, as you know. Vivian," she said suddenly, "let us put off our marriage for a time. I can go out as a governess, and we can wait."
"Why should we wait?" he asked quickly, and his arms went round her in a firm embrace.
"Are you sure," murmured Beatrice, "that if I marry you, all trouble will be at an end?"
"Quite sure. My first wife is dead, so I can take a second. Ruck and those other beasts cannot harm me now. No, Beatrice, we shall marry in a week as you promised."
"I have no wedding-dress!"
"That does not matter. I marry you and not your clothes. If we postpone our marriage, it may never take place."
"Why not?"
"Because there are those who would stop me from marrying you. Not Ruck--he can do nothing. Beatrice,"--he caught her hands and looked deep into her eyes--"I own to you that I have been a fool. My marriage with that adventuress introduced me into strange company. I will not tell you now what straits I have been in and what trouble I have undergone. Only trust me and marry me. I shall then tell you the whole of my life's history. Believe me, there is nothing in it for which you will cease to love me. My worst sin is having kept this first marriage from you."
"I will trust you," whispered Beatrice, who was much perplexed; "but is it not possible to clear up these mysteries?"
"You may clear them up," said Vivian, after a moment's hesitation. "I cannot help you--I dare not," he ended, and abruptly left her.