I will, of course, without compulsion. She is Lady Mary
Carysbroke,' said Lady Knollys.

'A relation of Mr. Carysbroke's,' I asserted.

'Yes, a relation; but who told you he was Mr. Carysbroke?' asked Cousin
Monica.

'Milly told me, when we saw him in the Windmill Wood.'

'And who told you, Milly?'

'It was L'Amour,' answered Milly, with her blue eyes very wide open.

'What does the child mean? L'Amour! You don't mean _love_?' exclaimed Lady
Knollys, puzzled in her turn.

'I mean old Wyat; _she_ told me and the Governor.'

'You're _not_ to say that,' I interposed.

'You mean your father?' suggested Lady Knollys.

'Well, yes; father told her, and so I knew him.'

'What could he mean?' exclaimed Lady Knollys, laughing, as it were, in
soliloquy; 'and I did not mention his name, I recollect now. He recognised
you, and you him, when you came into the room yesterday; and now you must
tell me how you discovered that he and Lady Mary were to be married.'

So Milly restated her evidence, and Lady Knollys laughed unaccountably
heartily; and she said--

'They _will_ be _so_ confounded! but they deserve it; and, remember, _I_
did not say so.'

'Oh! we acquit you.'

'All I say is, such a deceitful, dangerous pair of girls--all things
considered--I never heard of before,' exclaimed Lady Knollys. 'There's no
such thing as conspiring in your presence.'

'Good morning. I hope you slept well.' She was addressing the lady and
gentleman who were just entering the room from the conservatory. 'You'll
hardly sleep so well to-night, when you have learned what eyes are upon
you. Here are two very pretty detectives who have found out your secret,
and entirely by your imprudence and their own cleverness have discovered
that you are a pair of betrothed lovers, about to ratify your vows at
the hymeneal altar. I assure you I did not tell of you; you betrayed
yourselves. If you will talk in that confidential way on sofas, and call
one another stealthily by your Christian names, and actually kiss at the
foot of the stairs, while a clever detective is scaling them, apparently
with her back toward you, you must only take the consequences, and be known
prematurely as the hero and heroine of the forthcoming paragraph in the
"Morning Post."'

Milly and I were horribly confounded, but Cousin Monica was resolved to
place us all upon the least formal terms possible, and I believe she had
set about it in the right way.

'And now, girls,