whilst sundry
clauses in the laws concerning the marriages of minors without the
consent of their parents pass hurriedly through his brain.

"What do I care about my age?" says Beatrice, with the recklessness of an
impetuous woman bent upon having her own way. "Of course, I don't wish to
do anything disreputable, or to make a scandal, but mamma is driving me
to it by never allowing me to see you, and forbidding you to come to the
house, and by encouraging all sorts of men whom she wants me to marry."

"Ah! And these men, do they make love to you?" The instinct of the lover
rises instantly superior to the instinct of legal prudence within him.
"That is hard for me to bear."

"Now, Herbert, don't be a fool!" cries Beatrice, jumping up and making a
grimace at herself in the dusty glass over his mantelpiece. "Do I look
like a girl whom men would make love to? Am I not too positively hideous?
Oh, you needn't shake your head and look indignant. Of course I am ugly,
everybody but you thinks so. Of course it's not me, myself, but because
papa is rich, and they think I shall have money. Oh, what a curse this
money is!"

"I think the want of it a far greater one," says Herbert, ruefully.

"At any rate," continues Beatrice, "I am determined to put an end to this
state of things; we must take the law into our own hands."

"Am I to wait for you in a carriage and pair at the corner of Eaton
Square in the middle of the night?" inquires Herbert, grimly.

"No; don't be foolish; people don't do things now-a-days in the way our
grandmothers did. I shall go to morning service one day at some out
of-the-way church, where you will meet me with a licence in your pocket;
it will be the simplest thing in the world."

"And afterwards?"

"Afterwards I shall go home to lunch."

"And what am I to do?"

"Oh! you will come back here, I suppose."

"I don't think that will be very amusing," objects the bridegroom elect,
dubiously.

"No; but then we shall be really married, and when we know that no one
can part us, we shan't mind waiting; and then, some day, after about six
months or so, I shall confess to papa, and there will be a terrible
scene, ending in tears on my part, and in forgiveness on the part of my
parents. Once the deed is done, you see, they will be forced to make the
best of it; and, of course, they will not allow us to starve. I think it
is a very ingenious plan. What do you think of it, Herbert? You don't
look very muc