The next instant he had brought out the ring which she had refused to accept, a little while before, and holding out her hand impulsively Leslie let him put it on.
There was a pause in which she looked first at the ring and then at the man before her, the meaning of it all slowly dawning upon her. And then in some sudden outburst of rapture she let herself be held in his arms as their lips met in one long kiss. In that moment her heart went out to him, and she knew that there could never be anyone else for her. After a time she gently drew herself away from him, and said:
"My senses are coming back, Eliot, and this surrender is only on one condition, which is that there shall be no—no wedding—until, until father is cleared.... Of course, if you will not consent to this," and she toyed with the gem that sparkled on her finger, "then——"
"Hold on there, hold on!" cried Beekman. "I'll consent to anything so long as you're mine...."
"All over, is it, Eliot?" came in a big voice from somewhere behind them.
The pair of lovers sprang apart like two persons caught in the act of concocting some conspiracy. The interloper was the girl's father.
"I thought," went on Wilkinson, more gently now, "that I'd drop in before the news went over the wire. Leslie's been opening up her heart to me—letting me in on her troubles, and I agree with her, though it's your own affair, of course. I'd keep the engagement quiet, for the present."
"That is precisely what I want; in fact I insist upon it," said Leslie, tugging at the ring on her finger.
Beekman watched her struggles in alarm.
"I consent to anything, just so long as I am sure you're mine, that you belong to me," he repeated.