“Launa, now is the time to tell Harvey your decision. When shall we be married?”
Paul let her hands go.
“When?” he asked. “Before I return to Canada? I am going soon.”
“In September,” said Mr. Wainbridge.
“Yes,” said Launa. “Paul, you have not forgotten your promise. You will give me away?”
Mr. Wainbridge gave a sigh of relieved tension. He had dreaded something different. The wind and the étude had affected his nerves also.
After he retired to his bed that night he remembered that Launa had said she was going to Canada. Paul had said so too. Had there been anything in this mutual resolve to go to Canada. Would he have lost her? The possibility—nay, the certainty—of this showed him his proposal for their marriage was only just in time. Her indifference was not the least of her attractions for him.
In two days Lord Wainbridge came to see her. They talked of the weather and of marriage, both of them changeable varieties, and of absorbing interest.
Lord Fairmouth went up to town, and as he went he remembered the Fisheries. Launa and he had talked very little about them. He had left the House of Commons, and she was going to be married.