A Bride of the Plains by Emma Orczy

And now there he was, as of old, sitting, as was his wont, on the corner of the table, his two strong hands firmly grasping Elsa's wrists. She held him a little at arm's length, frightened still at the suddenness of his apparition here--on this day--the day of her farewell feast.

When first he drew her to him, she had breathed his name--softly panting with excitement, "Andor!"