"I told you once, and more than once, that I couldn't tell you. Won't you ever understand?"
But Horace did not loosen his hold upon her. He drew the dark head against him tenderly.
"You misunderstood, Fledra. I am going to trust you in everything. I am going to put all my faith in you, and to save you and your brother from a fearful life. I must make you my wife!"
Fledra drew a long breath. All the stumbling petitions she had made to Heaven were answered by those few words. At last, to be Horace's wife, to save Flukey, and to protect Ann, who would now have back her lover! It seemed to the young girl, in this flashing moment of thought, that all the clouds of the last few months had floated over their heads and away.
"It will take a few days before I can arrange our marriage," explained Horace. "One reason for not arranging today is that I have to run down to New York for two or three days; and then, too, I must be careful not to let anyone know of our plans. I want you to talk with my sister. I have told her that I love you."
"Was she sorry?" whispered Fledra.
"No—very, very glad!"
"And can I tell Floyd?"
"Yes, just as soon as you like. I have an idea your happiness will go far to make him well."