But far was it from her thoughts to waver in her purpose at this eleventh hour. Raising her head, she looked for a minute full into Geoff's earnest grey eyes, and within her heart she again registered a vow to put his happiness, his welfare, first and foremost now and in the future. These minutes of apparent hesitation were sacred, and her expression was intense and solemn as she replied in a slightly quivering voice—
"My own beloved, I am yours, absolutely and without restriction. You are to decide my life, my actions; to guide my very thoughts as is most pleasing to you. Everything shall be done exactly as you desire."
Entirely oblivious of Mrs. Harbert's presence he thanked her by kisses.
"I'll telegraph to Mr. Topham, then," interposed the overlooked Philia after a minute. "I'll tell 'im I'm comin' right enough. Now, 'owever will I find out what train to git or what station to go from, or anything else?"
Evarne came back to earth.
"Ask Geoff to look it up in the time-table for you," she suggested.
"Certainly. Where is it you want to go to?"
"Saint—Saint—it's Saint somewhere," and Philia again peered into her letter. "St. Andrews."
As the young man left the studio to find the time-table, she came close to Evarne, a broad smile of triumph on her genial countenance.
"Well, now, ain't I bin and gorn and done well? Ain't I a fine hactress? Didn't the stage lose a shinin' light when I took up Hart as a profession? Ain't I got a fine invention too? Didn't I ought to 'ave written books? Ain't I been wonderful sharp? Pity I ain't a beastly lawyer."