"You shall do 'em all," he said, putting his arm round her. "See here,
Ida, I've been thinking about ourselves--"
"Do you ever think of anything else? I don't," she said, half
unconsciously.
--"And I've made up my mind to take the bull by the horns--"
"Is that meant for my father or yours?"
"Both," he replied. "We've been so happy this last fortnight--is it a
fortnight ago since I got you to tell me that you cared for me? Lord!
it seems a year sometimes, and at others it only seems a minute!--that
we haven't cared to think of how we stand; but it can't like this
forever, Ida. You see, I want you--I want you all to myself, for every
hour of the day and night instead of for just the few minutes I've the
good luck to snatch. Directly this affair of my governor's is finished
I shall go to him and tell him I'm the happiest, the luckiest man in
the world; I shall tell him everything exactly how we stand--and ask
him to help us with your father."
Ida sighed and looked grave.
"I know, dearest," he said, answering the look. "But your father has to
be faced some time, and I--Ida, I am impatient. I want you. Now, as I
daresay you have discovered, I am rather an idiot than otherwise, and
the worst man in the world to carry out anything diplomatically; but my
father--" He laughed rather ruefully. "Well, they say he can coax a
concession out of even the Sultan of Turkey; that there is no one who
can resist him; and I know I shall be doing the right thing by telling
him how we stand."
She leant her elbows on her knees and her chin in the palms of her
hands.
"It shall be as you say, my lord and master," she said; "and when you
tell him that you have been so foolish as to fall in love with a little
Miss Nobody, who lives in a ruined tumble-down house, and is as poor
and friendless as a church mouse, do you think he will be
delighted--that the great and all-powerful Sir Stephen Orme will throw
up his hat for joy and consider that you have been very wise?"
"I think when he sees you--What is that?" he broke off.
"That" was a lady riding across the moor behind them. She was mounted
on one of the Orme horses, was habited by Redfern, who had done justice
to her superb and supple figure, and the sunlight which poured from
between the clouds fully revealed the statuesque beauty of her face.