"Then—then let us take her with us to Florence. 'Twould make me happier than anything under the sun."
The words were followed by a slightly dismayed pause. Although he strove bravely to conceal the fact, Milbanke's face fell. And Mrs. Asshlin became newly and markedly shocked.
"My dear Clodagh——" she began sternly.
But Milbanke put up his hand.
"Pray say nothing, Mrs. Asshlin!" he broke in gently. "Clodagh's wishes are mine."
The blood surged into Clodagh's face in a wake of spontaneous relief.
"You mean that?" she said again.
Once more he bent his head.
"Then I'll marry you any time you like," she said with a sudden, impulsive warmth.
And in due time the day of the marriage dawned. After careful consideration, every detail had been arranged and all difficulties smoothed away. The ceremony was to take place in the small, unpretentious Protestant church at Carrigmore, where, Sunday after Sunday, since the days of her early childhood, Clodagh had listened to the Word of God, and had sent up her own immature supplications to heaven. The marriage—which of necessity was to be of the most private nature—was fixed for the forenoon; and it had been arranged that immediately upon its conclusion, Clodagh, Nance, and Milbanke should repair to Mrs. Asshlin's cottage, from which—having partaken of lunch—they were to start upon their journey without returning to Orristown.