“Come out into the garden with me, and I will tell you all about it;” and Francis led Jane where they were more secure from interruption.  Flora and Nep followed them in the greatest exuberance of spirits.

“I had to stay one day in Melbourne, and found that I could get a situation there as accountant in a merchant’s office, at 300 pounds to begin with.  I had Mr. Rennie’s testimonial to speak for me.  It is not so much as my 50 pounds in Edinburgh; but will you marry me on that?” said Francis.

“I would marry you on less,” said Jane, “for my own part of it; but you care more for comfort and luxury than I do.  If you will consent to be cheerfully without what we cannot afford, I will do my best.”

“I have been roughing it a little on board ship; you may ask Peggy and Mary Forrester if I have not.  But I hope to get on, for your sake, if not for my own.  I feel just like a boy again beginning the world, and feeling it is all his for the winning.”

“But your plans—­your ambitions—­are they all given up?  You know the property was really yours—­as much yours without a name as with my uncle’s.  I am sorry you were so rash.”

“No, Jane, don’t be sorry; don’t be anything but very glad.  I never was so happy in my life.  I left all my regrets on the other side of the world.  Now, when I have your hand in mine, your heart in my keeping, when you have promised to give yourself to me, I will not feel that I have cause for anything but devout gratitude to our Heavenly Father, and humble but confident hope that He will bless our union.  My dearest love, do look in my face and say you are happy.”

“Yes, I am happy,” said Jane, “very happy.  Thank God for all his goodness.”

“But what are we to do for a name?  I ought not to be Hogarth, or Ormistown, or Francis either.  Can you give me a new name to begin our new life with?”

“I think we will still call you Francis Hogarth; it is the name I learned to love you by, and I think if my poor dear uncle saw us now, and saw how we love each other, he would be pleased that my husband should have his name.  Then you have really given up everything?” said Jane, who could not at once believe in the fact.

“To the benevolent societies.  But they behaved very handsomely, and gave to me—­or rather, to you—­a sum of money sufficient to better our position.  I have not only the 300 pounds a-year—­I have 2,500 pounds besides, and a lot of things from Cross Hall to furnish a cottage with.  I had to leave the horses, but I thought you and Elsie would like the dogs.  Susan helped to pack the furniture; and I have brought her out to go into your service in any capacity.  I suppose we can afford to keep one domestic on our small means, even in Melbourne.”

“I suppose the rest of the establishment were sorry to lose a good master,” said Jane; “and the labourers, too—­what about your arrangements there?”