eel--you will grow to feel there was no evil done you
when you were drawn away from the life that now surrounds you. And if
you were to say 'I will become your wife only on one condition--that I
am not asked to abandon my career as an actress,' still I would say
'Become my wife.' Surely matters of arrangement are mere trifles--after
you have given me your promise. And when you have placed your hand in
mine (and the motto of the Macleods is _Hold Fast_), we can study
conditions, and obstacles, and the other nonsense that our friends are
sure to suggest, at our leisure. I think I already hear you say 'Yes;' I
listen and listen, until I almost hear your voice. And if it is to be
'Yes,' will you wear a red rose in your dress on Saturday? I shall see
that before you speak. I will know what your message is, even if there
are people about. One red rose only."

"Macleod," said Major Stuart to him, "did you come to London to write
love-letters?"

"Love-letters!" he said, angrily; but then he laughed. "And what did
you come to London for?"

"On a highly philanthropic errand," said the other, gravely, "which I
hope to see fulfilled to-morrow. And if we have a day or two to spare,
that is well enough, for one cannot be always at work; but I did not
expect to take a holiday in the company of a man who spends
three-fourths of the day at a writing-desk."

"Nonsense!" said Macleod, though there was some telltale color in his
face. "All the writing I have done to-day would not fill up twenty
minutes. And if I am a dull companion, is not Norman Ogilvie coming to
dinner to-night to amuse you?"

While they were speaking, a servant brought in a card.

"Ask the gentleman to come up," Macleod said, and then he turned to his
companion. "What an odd thing! I was speaking to you a minute ago about
that drag accident. And here is Beauregard himself."

The tall, rough-visaged man--stooping slightly as though he thought the
doorway was a trifle low--came forward and shook hands with Macleod, and
was understood to inquire about his health, though what he literally
said was, "Hawya, Macleod, hawya?"

"I heard you were in town from Paulton--you remember, Paulton, who dined
with you at Richmond. He saw you in a hansom yesterday; and I took my
chance of finding you in your old quarters. What are you doing in
London?"

Macleod briefly explained.

"And you?" he asked, "what has brought you to London? I thought you and
Lady Beauregard were in