t the proud lips and the
moistened eyes, what cause that had won such eloquent advocacy would he
not have espoused?

"Ah, well, Natalie," said he, "some day the mass of the people of the
earth will be brought to see that all that can be put a stop to, if they
so choose. They have the power: _Zahlen regieren die Welt_; and how can
one be better employed than in spreading abroad knowledge, and showing
the poorer people of the earth how the world might be governed if they
would only ally themselves together? It would be more easy to persuade
them if we had all of us your voice and your enthusiasm."

"Mine?" she said. "A woman's talking is not likely to be of much use.
But," she added, rather hesitatingly, "at least--she can give her
sympathy--and her love--to those who are doing the real work."

"And I am going to earn yours, Natalie," said he, cheerfully, "to such a
degree as you have never dreamed of, when you and I together are away in
the new world. And that reminds me now you must not be frightened; but
there is a little difficulty. Of course you thought of nothing, when you
wrote those lines, but of doing a kindness; that was like you; your
heart speaks quickly. Well--"

He himself seemed somewhat embarrassed.

"You see, Natalie, there would be no difficulty at all if you and I
could get married within the next few days."

Her eyes were cast down, and she was silent.

"You don't think it possible you could get your father to consent?" he
said, but without much hope.

"Oh no, I think not; I fear not," she said, in a low voice.

"Then you see, Natalie," he continued--and he spoke quite lightly, as if
it was merely an affair of a moment--"there would be this little
awkwardness: you are not of age; unless you get your father's consent,
you cannot marry until you are twenty-one. It is not a long time--"

"I did not think of it," she said, very hurriedly, and even
breathlessly. "I only thought it--it seemed hard you should go away
alone--and I considered myself already your wife--and I said, 'What
ought I to do?' And now--now you will tell me what to do. I do not
know--I have no one to ask."

"Do you think," said he, after a pause, "that you would forget me, if
you were to remain two years in England while I was in America?"

She regarded him for a moment with those large, true eyes of hers; and
she did not answer in words.

"There is another way; but--it is asking too much," he said.

"What is it?" she sa