"I promise you," said Glynn gravely.
Another delightful hour with Elsie, and he was obliged to go. He had persuaded her to accompany Lady Gethin, and had undertaken not to lose sight of her father until he conveyed him safely to Lausanne. The idea that Deering was plotting against his life had greatly affected her.
"There must be much you do not tell me," she said. "The whole thing seems so strange and terrible."
"No doubt it does," said Glynn. "Later, I am sure, your father will tell you more. Now, my love, my darling, I must leave you."
"Before you go," said Elsie, raising her eyes to his with a grave smile, "tell me your name! I never heard it, and I want to know; I want to call you by some name more familiar than Mr. Glynn in my thoughts."
"I hope you will, dearest. I am called Hugh."
"Hugh! I do not know that name. I like it. It sounds strong." Then, with a vivid blush, but a certain steadiness, as if she had made up her mind, she said, "Good-night, dear Hugh."
Glynn clasped her in his arms, and kissing her tenderly implored her to take courage and believe that her father's innocence would yet be proved, and the villainy plotted against him frustrated.
It was a dreadful wrench for Elsie to part from her father. It needed the united influence and urging both of Glynn and Lambert to persuade her at the last. For the few days intervening between Glynn's avowal and Elsie's departure, Lambert walked every morning in the little garden behind the house, leaning on his daughter's arm. He seemed feverishly eager to regain strength now that the local doctor who attended him ceased his visits, and declared him convalescent.