He managed to stammer out some words of gratitude and then went to find Evelyn.
She had crossed a sloping lawn and was standing by the side of a little stream that gargled and bubbled in joyous career to the nearby loch.

She had thrown a white shawl over her head and shoulders, and looked adorably sylphlike as she turned on hearing his footsteps; the moonlight shone on her face and was reflected in her eyes.
"Oh, you're here at last!" she cried gaily.

"The next time I ask any cavalier to escort me he will come more quickly, I imagine." He stood in front of her, and stretched out both hands.
"Evelyn," he said, "here is one cavalier, at any rate, who offers himself as an escort for life." The merriment died out of her eyes, and the quip on her tongue failed her.

Greatly daring, her lover took her in his arms.

Through the open windows of the drawing room floated the tender refrain of a ballad.