“Did you get all of my letters?”

“I think so.”

“You know I am a poor man?”

“I know you said so.”

“Don’t you consider my position poverty?  I thought every one over there had a contempt for an income that didn’t run into tens of thousands.”

“I told you, Alan, I had been unused to money, and so your income appears to me quite sufficient.”

“Then you are not afraid to trust in my future?”

“Not the least:  I believe in you.”

“Oh, you dear girl.  If you knew how sweet that sounds!  Then I may tell you.  When I was in London last I ran down to Dartmouth in Devonshire.  I shall be stationed there.  You see, I have finished my foreign cruising, and Dartmouth is, for a time at least, to be my home.  There’s a fine harbor there, green hills and a beautiful river running between them, and I found such a lovely old house; not grand at all, you know, but so cosey and comfortable, standing on the heights overlooking the harbor, in an old garden filled with roses, shrubs, and every kind of flower; vines clambering about the ancient house.  Two servants would keep it going like a shot.  Dorothy, what do you say?”

Dorothy laughed quietly and whole heartedly.

“It reads like a bit from an old English romance.  I’d just love to see such a house.”

“You don’t care for this sort of thing, do you?” he asked, glancing round about him.

“What sort of thing?”

“This yacht, these silk pannellings, these gorgeous pictures, the carving, the gilt, the horribly expensive carpet.”

“You mean should I feel it necessary to be surrounded by such luxury?  I answer most emphatically, no.  I like your ivy-covered house at Dartmouth much better.”

For a moment neither said anything:  lips cannot speak when pressed together.

“Now, Dorothy, I want you to elope with me.  We will be in Stockholm long before daylight to-morrow at the rate this boat is going.  I’ll get ashore as soon as practicable, and make all inquiries at the consulate about being married.  I don’t know what the regulations are, but if it is possible to be married quietly, say in the afternoon, will you consent to that, and then write a letter to Captain Kempt, thanking him for the trip on the yacht, and I’ll write, thanking him for all he has done for me, and after that we’ll make for England together.  I’ve got a letter of credit in my pocket, which luckily the Russians did not take from me.  I shall find all the money we need at Stockholm, then we’ll cross the Swedish country, sail to Denmark, make our way through Germany to Paris, if you like, or to London.  We shan’t travel all the time, but just take nice little day trips, stopping at some quaint old town every afternoon and evening.”

“You mean to let Captain Kempt, Katherine, and the Prince go to America alone?”

“Of course.  Why not?  They don’t want us, and I’m quite sure we—­ well, Dorothy, we’d be delighted to have them, to be sure—­ but still, I’ve knocked a good deal about Europe, and there are some delightful old towns I’d like to show you, and I hate traveling with a party.”