wed by the man bearing
rose-shaded lamps.

Dolly was a vivacious child of about nine, with golden locks which had
a pretty ripple in them, and deep long-lashed eyes that promised to be
dangerous one day. 'We took Frisk out without the leash, mummy,' she
cried, 'and when we got into Westbourne Grove he ran away. Wasn't it
too bad of him?'

'Never mind, darling, he'll come back quite safe--he always does.'

'Ah, but it's his running away that I mind,' said Dolly; 'and you know
what a dreadful state he always _will_ come back in. He must be cured
of doing it somehow.'

'Talk to him very seriously about it, Dolly,' said Mabel.

'I've tried that--and he only cringes and goes and does it again
directly he's washed. I know what I'll do, Mabel. When he comes back
this time, he shall have a jolly good whacking!'

'My _dear_ child,' cried Mrs. Langton, 'what a dreadful expression!'

'Colin says it,' said Dolly, though she was quite aware that Colin was
hardly a purist in his expressions.

'Colin says a good many things that are not pretty in a little girl's
mouth.'

'So he does,' said Dolly cheerfully. 'I wonder if he knows? I'll go
and tell him of it--he's come home.' And she ran off just as the
door-bell rang.

'Mabel, I really think that must be some one else coming to call after
all. Do you know, I feel so tired and it's so late that I think I will
leave you and Fraeulein to talk to them. Papa and I are going out to
dinner to-night, and I must rest a little before I begin to dress.
I'll run away while I can.'

Mrs. Langton fluttered gracefully out of the room as the butler
crossed the hall to open the door, evidently to a visitor, and
presently Mabel heard 'Mr. Holroyd' announced.

'So you really have come after all,' said Mabel, holding out her hand
with a pretty smile of welcome. 'Mamma and I thought you meant to go
away without a word.'

'You might have known me better than that,' said Holroyd.

'But when your last afternoon in England was nearly over and no sign
of you, there _was_ some excuse for thinking so; but you have come at
last, so we won't scold you. Will you have some tea? It isn't very
warm, I'm afraid, but you are so very late, you know. Ring, and you
shall have some fit to drink.'

Vincent accepted tea, chiefly because he wanted to be waited upon once
more by her with the playful, gracious manner, just tinged with
affectionate mockery, which he knew so well; and then he talked to her
and