her, and talking over the situation with her.
At any cost this persecution must end; and the result of the conferences
was that an excellent plan was evolved. Richard was to worm himself into
the confidence of the Major, and, in the character of friend and
well-wisher, was to advise him, as a matter of diplomacy, to cease his
attentions to Miss Linley for a time. Meanwhile arrangements were to be
made for the Nightingale's escape to France, where she proposed to enter
a convent until she was of age--thus finding a refuge from the
persecution to which her beauty constantly subjected her, and also from
the scandal which the Long fiasco had given rise to, and which was still
a great source of unhappiness to her.

The plot was cunningly planned and worked smoothly. The Major was
induced by subtle pleading to leave Miss Linley in peace for a time;
and, to quote Miss Sheridan:

"At length they fixed on an evening when Mr Linley, his
eldest son and Miss Mary Linley were engaged at the
concert (Miss Linley being excused on the plea of
illness) to set out on their journey. Sheridan brought a
sedan-chair to Mr Linley's house in the Crescent, in
which he had Miss Linley conveyed to a post-chaise that
was waiting for them on the London road. A woman was in
the chaise who had been hired to accompany them on this
extraordinary elopement."

For elopement it really was, although ostensibly Sheridan was merely
playing the part of a friendly escort to a distressed lady, whatever
deeper scheme, unknown to her, may have been in his mind. After a brief
stay in London a boat was taken to Dunkirk, and the journey resumed
towards Lille.

It was during this last stage of the journey that Sheridan disclosed his
hand. With consummate, if questionable, cleverness he explained that he
could not, in honour, leave her in a convent except as his wife; that he
had loved her since first he met her more than anything else in life,
and that he could not bear the thought of her fair name being sullied by
the scandal that would surely follow this journey taken in his company.

To such plausible arguments, pleaded by one who confessed that he loved
her, and to whom she was (as she now realised) far from indifferent,
Miss Linley could not remain deaf. And before the coach had travelled
many miles from Calais the runaways found an accommodating priest to
make them one. The would-be nun thus dramatically ended