But Geoff interrupted. He had been rapidly turning over in his mind this startling idea of an immediate wedding, and found it rose-coloured. Not only did he long for the day that should give him the woman he loved, but he foresaw that, by his marriage being once put beyond the pale of argument, he would probably avoid a great deal of useless discussion and consequent ill-feeling between himself and his cousin. Except Winborough, he had no relations sufficiently near to feel themselves aggrieved at not having been confided in about the matter—and indeed when were aunts or cousins ever seriously considered in such a case? The one objection to this unconventional suddenness was that it might be more pleasant for Evarne not to have had her wedding in any way apparently hurried or peculiar. But now other circumstances seemed to counter-balance this really very small and indefinite objection.
Thus his meditations were not long protracted, and he interrupted Evarne's sentence upon sudden impulse.
"Mrs. Harbert is quite right. It would not be at all safe for you to be living absolutely alone while you're liable to these horrible fainting attacks. Dearest—dearest—marry me to-morrow and give me the right to really look after you and care for you. Please don't shake your head. Obviously it is in every way best and advisable. Why do you hesitate? We don't want a smart wedding or anything alarming of that sort, do we? You do care for me, really and truly, don't you, and you believe that you will be safe and happy with me? Mrs. Harbert, you've had a really brilliant idea——"
"Lor, sir, I only spoke in fun. I never thought of your takin' it serious-like."
"But you see now, don't you—don't you, Evarne—that to procure a special licence and get married to-morrow morning, without any unnecessary preparation, will save a world of annoyance and anxiety? My dear one, do think how I should worry about you. Besides—besides—the truth is, I want to feel that you are mine beyond the possibility of your changing your mind."
"You think I might, then?"
"Well, I don't mean that exactly. There, I don't want to have to think about it at all; I want to make our marriage a fact. I want to be secure of you. Our circumstances are somewhat peculiar. We have neither of us got any relations we need to think of; we've only got each other in the whole world, Evarne. Why should we run any risks? Dear one, dear love, be persuaded. Say 'yes,' and you shall never, never regret it."
He spoke in tones soft and coaxing enough to melt a heart of stone, yet he received no answer, either by word or look. Somewhat puzzled, Philia broke the protracted silence.
"Yer can't love 'im as much as yer told me, or you'd be 'appy at the idea of callin' 'im 'usband."
But Evarne heeded her not. She was overwhelmed with shame at the ease with which her own plot had succeeded. Where she was concerned, Geoff was absolutely devoid of the faintest suspicions of any description. The bare possibility of trickery, of prearrangement or of falsehood having any part in Philia's unexpected visit to the studio, obviously never entered his mind. It was enough to him to be made to see that his 'Sweet Lady's' material well-being would be benefited by her becoming his wife at once, and immediately his whole desire was to persuade her to this course of action. Knowing that practically every word she had spoken that morning had been uttered with the full intention of deceiving—as part of a deliberate scheme—the perfect confidence he had in her integrity and honour, his loyal, generous, and complete trust, were to her a bitter reproach. It stabbed her conscience, and she stood silent and abashed before him.