You must do nothing until you reach London." "I like your word _must_, Jennie," said the young man audaciously.

"It implies something, you know." "What does it imply, Lord Donal ?" she asked, glancing up at him.
"It implies that you are going to leave the 'Lord' off my name." "That wouldn't be very difficult," replied Jennie.
"I am delighted to hear you say so," exclaimed his lordship; "and now, that I may know how it sounds from your dear lips, call me Don." "No; if I ever consented to omit the title, I should call you Donal.

I like the name in its entirety." He reached his hand across the table.

"Are you willing then, to accept a man at the very lowest ebb of his fortunes?
I know that if I were of the mould that heroes are made of, I would hesitate to proffer you a blighted life.

But I loved you the moment I saw you; and, remembering my fruitless search for you, I cannot run the risk of losing you again; I have not the courage." She placed her hand in his and looked him, for the first time, squarely in the eyes.
"Are you sure, Donal," she said, "that I am not a mere effigy on which you are hanging the worn-out garments of a past affection?
You thought I was the Princess at first." "No, I didn't," he protested.