He shook his head and called to one of his mates.
"Where's Bundaberg House, Bill?"
"Out on the Portsmouth Road nearly to Thames Ditton," was the reply. "That big house with the long brick wall next to Tiller's."
"I know now, sir!" said the man, climbing on to his box.
"Very well, then! An extra shilling if you hurry up," I cried, and away he went.
At the end of a short drive we pulled up before a pair of massive iron gates. A passer by threw them open for us and we drove in, passed round a shrubbery, and pulled up at the front door. I paid the cabman off and then, having watched him drive down and through the gates again, rang the bell. Next moment the door opened and a trim maid servant, without inquiring my name, invited me to enter. The front door opened on to a nicely built and furnished hall and from it I passed into a handsome drawing-room. It was empty but, before I had time to look round, the folding doors on the other side were thrown back and Alie entered the room.
I must leave you to imagine our greeting. I can only say that it sends a tremor through me to this day to remember it. I know that while I held Alie, who seemed more beautiful than ever, in my arms she whispered:
"You are still of the same mind, George?"
"Doesn't this look as if I am, darling?" I whispered. "Yes, I love you more fondly than ever, and I have come to-night to claim the fulfilment of your promise."
"You have been very patient, George!"