"Why yes, if you wish it!" she said. "But—so soon?"
"Darling, the sooner the better! I mean to take every possible method of making our marriage binding in the sight of the world, before the Vatican has time to launch its thunders. If you are willing, we can be married at the American Consulate to-morrow morning. You must remember that though born of British parents, I do not resign my American citizenship, and would not forego being of the New World for all the old worlds ever made! The American Consul knows me well, and he will begin to make things legal for us to-morrow if you are ready."
"BEGIN to make things legal?" echoed Sylvie smiling. "Will he do no more than begin?"
"My sweetheart, he cannot. He will make you mine according to American law. In England, you will again be made mine according to English law. And then afterwards we will have our religious ceremony!"
Sylvie looked at him perplexedly, then gave a pretty gesture of playful resignation.
"Let everything be as you wish and decide, Aubrey," she said." I give my life and love to you, and have no other will but yours!"
He kissed her.
"I accept the submission, only to put myself more thoroughly at your command," he said tenderly,—"You are my queen,—but with powerful enemies against us, I must see that you are rightfully enthroned!"
A few minutes' more conversation,—then a hurried consultation with Madame Bozier, and Sylvie, changing her lace gown for a simple travelling dress, walked out of the Casa D'Angeli with the faithful Katrine, and taking the first carriage she could find, was driven to the Palazzo where the Princesse D'Agramont had her apartments. Allowing from ten to fifteen minutes to elapse after her departure, Aubrey Leigh himself went out, and standing on the steps of the house, looked up and down carelessly, drawing on his gloves and humming a tune. His quick glance soon espied what he had been almost certain he should see, namely, the straight black-garmented figure of a priest, walking slowly along the street on the opposite side, his hands clasped behind his back, and his whole aspect indicative of devout meditation.
"I thought so!" said Aubrey to himself. "A spy set on already! No time to lose—Cardinal Bonpre must leave Rome at nightfall."