“No, I didn’t,” he protested. “As soon as I heard you speak, I knew you were the one I was destined to meet.”
“Ah, Donal, Donal, at lovers’ perjuries they say Jove laughs. I don’t think you were quite so certain as all that. But I, too, am a coward, and I dare not refuse you.”
Lord Donal glanced quickly about him; the room was still crowded. Even the Berlin Express gave them a long time for breakfast, and was in no hurry to move westward. His hurried gaze returned to her and he sighed.
“What an unholy spot for a proposal!” he whispered; “and yet they call Russia the Great Lone Land. Oh, that we had a portion of it entirely to ourselves!”
The girl sat there, a smile on her pretty lips that Lord Donal thought most tantalizing. A railway official announced in a loud voice that the train was about to resume its journey. There was a general shuffling of feet as the passengers rose to take their places.
“Brothers and sisters kiss each other, you know, on the eve of a railway journey,” said Lord Donal, taking advantage of the confusion.
Jennie Baxter made no protest.
“There is plenty of time,” he whispered. “I know the leisurely nature of Russian trains. Now I am going to the telegraph office, to send in my resignation, and I want you to come with me and send in yours.”
“No, Lord Donal,” said the girl.
“Aren’t you going to resign?” he asked, in surprise.