From the very first the girl accepted him as her natural protector; she looked up to him in all things; he became her present and her horizon.
It was on one lovely night, when the moon was rising, the winds were soft and low, and the stars came out in the dark sky like golden rain, that he first spoke to her of what was to happen.
It was all quite simple, though inexpressibly sweet.
They were alone together in the forward part of the ship, and suddenly he took her slim white hand—like a thing of carved and living ivory—and held it close to his heart.
"My dear," he said, in a voice tremulous with feeling, "my dear Lizzie, you are my love and my lady. When first I saw you outside St. Botolph his Church, so slim and sorrowful in the grey dawning, my heart was pierced with love for you, and during the sad day that came I vowed that I would devote my life to loving you, and that if God pleased thou shouldst be my little wife. Wilt marry me, darling? nay, thou must marry me, for I need you so sore, to be mine for ever both here in this mortal world and afterwards with God and His Angels. Tell me, sweetheart, wilt marry me?"
She looked up in his face, and the little hand upon his heart trembled as she did so.
"Why, Johnnie," she answered at length, "why, Johnnie, who could I marry but you?"
He gathered the sweet and fragrant Simplicity to him; he kissed the soft scarlet mouth, his strong arms were a home for her.
"Or ever we get to Seville," he said, "we will be married, sweetheart, and never will we part from that day."
She echoed him. "Never part!" she said. "Oh, Johnnie, my true love; my dear and darling Johnnie!"