"You know I do! Are you ready to give up Charley, and marry me?"
"Oh!" said Cherrie, and it was all she replied; but it was uttered so rapturously that it perfectly satisfied him.
"Then that is settled? Let me see—suppose we get married next week, or the week after?"
"Oh! Captain!" cried the enraptured Cherrie.
"Then that is settled too. What a little darling you are, Cherrie! And now I have only one request to make of you—that you will not breathe one word of this to a living soul. Not a syllable—do you understand?"
"Why? said Cherrie, a little disappointed.
"My dear girl, it would ruin us both! We will be married privately—no one shall know it but the clergyman and—Mr. Blake."
"Mr. Blake? Val?"
"Yes," said Captain Cavendish, gravely, "he shall be present at the ceremony, but not another being in Speckport must find it out. If they do, Cherrie, I will have to leave you forever. There are many reasons for this that I cannot now explain. You will continue to live at home, and no one but ourselves shall be the wiser. There, don't look so disappointed; it won't last long, my darling. Let Charley still think himself your lover; but, mind you, keep him at a respectful distance, Cherrie."
They reached the cottage at last, but it took them a very long time. Captain Cavendish walked back to Speckport in the moonlight, smoking, and with an odd little smile on his handsome face.