"Oh, Warren, dearest. I will never hear of such a thing!" said Georgia, vehemently.
"Well, if you will excuse me for saying so, I don't care in the least whether you will or not—I shall do it. Not a word now, Mistress Georgia; you will find that you will have to obey your brother, since you have found him, and do for the future exactly as he tells you. Besides, Georgia, Warren Randall's sister shall never go back penniless to her husband," he said, proudly; "he shall find her his equal in wealth, as in everything else."
"Oh, Warren!" she said, with filling eyes.
"Not a word about it now," he said, putting his fingers over her lips; "to-morrow the world shall know you as you really are."
"Warren, listen to me," she said, taking his hand. "Until I meet Richmond again, I intend to keep my incognito. Perhaps you may call it an odd fancy, but I really wish it. No one yet knows my secret but Mr. Curtis, Mr. Leonard, and Richmond's brother, and if I wish it they will keep it a secret. Let me still be Miss Randall until he comes."
"But when will he come?" broke in Warren, half impatiently; "who knows? It may be years or—Georgia," he added, suddenly, "suppose we go to him, eh? When the mountain will not come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain—rather that style of thing, isn't it? What do you say to a trip to France, ma belle?"
"Oh, Warren!" she cried, catching her breath, her whole face growing radiant with delight.
"I am answered," he said, gayly; "this day week we start."
"For where, may I ask?" said Mr. Curtis, lounging in. "Your chateau in Spain? or on a wild-goose chase?"
"Something very like it," said Warren, laughing. "We are off to France, in search of one Richmond Wildair, plenipotentiary and ambassador extraordinary to the court of that distant and facetious region."