"Well, Gladys, shall it not be to-day?"
She knew quite well what he meant, but, womanlike, evaded. "Why, what do you mean, Cid?"
"You know well enough, dear. Shall it not be to-day that all the demons of pride and worldliness which have kept us so long apart shall be utterly routed? Come, give me your hand like a brave girl, and tell me that you will be my wife before sundown."
"Cid, are you crazy?"
"A little, perhaps; but how sweet a madness, is it not? Better than the sanity which I have so long known. Come, give me your hand; that means yes?"
"O Cid, how can you? It's wicked. Think of them all,—think of—that man."
"That is just what I won't think of. Gladys, I am in very deep earnest, much more so than you can guess. I ask you, dear, what may seem strange to you; but have you not all confidence in me? I ask you to come now to Fall River,—why, we
