Everett led Walda into the living-room of the inn and shut the door. Taking the red cloak from her shoulders, he tenderly placed her in one of the big rocking-chairs.
“From this moment you are always to be in my care,” he said. “Ah, Walda, I cannot realize that at last you are to be mine—all mine.”
She looked up at him with tears in her eyes.
“Stephen, it is strange, but now that I am about to go out into the great world with thee I am full of misgivings,” she replied.
He knelt beside her, and, taking her hand, said:
“You have had a tragic day. You are exhausted. Surely, you are not afraid to trust yourself to me?”
“Nay, nay. When thou art close to me I feel safe from all trouble; yet my heart trembles. Thy love hath a power that affrights me.”
He had risen and kissed her, drawing her head upon his breast and holding it there. She hid her face with a sudden shame while she asked:
“Are we to be married to-morrow, Stephen?”
“It was the agreement that we should leave Zanah at midnight. We shall drive to a town twenty-five miles away, and there, at sunrise, you and I will attend our own wedding.”