CHAPTER XVIII.
"Ida!" It was the lover's cry of appeal, the prayer for love uttered by the heart that loves; and it went straight to her own heart.
She put out her hand, and he took it and held it in both his.
"I have come for your answer," he said in the low voice that thrills; the voice which says so much more than the mere words.

"I could not wait--I tried to keep away from you until to-morrow; but it was of no use.

I am here, you see, and I want your answer.

Don't tell me it is 'No!' Trust me, Ida--trust to my love for you.

I will devote my life to trying to make you happy.