"Did I?" she asked, smiling through her tears, as she gently released herself from his enraptured embrace. "I thought I only suggested the propriety of your asking me."
"I feel very selfish in so doing, dearest Nell," he said, "but will you go?"
"Yes, if you really want me and will take me."
"Only too gladly, ah, you cannot doubt that, but have you thought of the long, tedious journey overland, and the dangers of the voyage?"
"Yes; and how can I let you meet them alone?"
"Ah, my darling, you are the most unselfish of women," he exclaimed, regarding her with tender, loving admiration, "and I the happiest of men."
"But," said Nell presently, "you will have a poorly attired bride. I shall have no time to get new dresses made."
"Very much wiser to wait for that till we reach New York, London or Paris," he answered, with his grave, tender smile. "'Tis the bird I would secure, sweet one, and I care not for the color or quality of the feathers she may wear."
So it was all settled, after a little more talk, and in a week they would be setting off for Europe on their wedding tour.
Great were Clare's astonishment and delight when she heard the news.