Mrs. Seton Carr seemed in no hurry to withdraw herself from the author's tightly clasping arms. Seriously, it was really very disgraceful behaviour of hers. She excused herself with the knowledge that there was no audience: save the moon and the sea. After subsidence of her laugh she said:

"I have said good-bye for ever to the Chantrelles. They have left Ivy Cottage. I shall never see them again——"

"I thought——"

"I loved him?" she interrupted gleefully. "I didn't—I just hated him——"

"Yet you——"

"Pretended I did because I wanted to annoy you! There! I wanted to annoy you because—I.... Don't, Prince Charlie! You're making me look so untidy.... Yes do—I don't mind.... They'll think it was the wind."

Thoughts of other people and of dinner came to them at last. But it was half-past seven before they started to walk back home. What they said during all the time they were on the seat is a matter of concern to themselves only.

Besides which, when people are in love, their conversation is not remarkable for originality and general interest. Even authors get out of the stirrups—off their high horse—and talk like other people.

She explained to him that she had loved him from the first. He, wondering how he could have been blind to the fact, hugged her close again. Thereupon, she complained that he hurt her, and then contradicted herself; in fact behaved like a true woman.

She confessed why she had not told him she was Mrs. Seton-Carr at first: because she was a leader of London fashion, and she knew he hated London Society and everything connected therewith. The newspaper people chronicled her movements and she was much talked about; she had thought he would not fail to recognize her name.

But she need not have feared; he would not have done so. Fashionable Intelligence, and all columns captioned in kindred fashion, he never read. Had an idea of his own that in the study of mankind his society papers were not very suitable textbooks.

It would naturally be supposed that seeing how late it was they would have hurried home. Not they! It was nearly eight o'clock when they reached Ivy Cottage. Dick was waiting for them.

"This is a pretty idea, upon my soul!" His greeting. "A nice way to treat your brother! Dinner has been waiting hours!"

"Never mind, Dick dear," replied his sister, pecking at his lips as she removed the pins from her hat. "It doesn't matter, it really doesn't matter in the least."

"Doesn't it! It matters to me! Am I supposed to be a fasting man, giving a seaside exhibition of myself? There's been no midday meal, because I had to bolt whilst you were turning people out of the house neck and crop. I did think I was going to get some dinner! I don't even get an apology. You're flouncing around grinning all over your face as if you'd picked up sixpence. What have you been doing?"

"There—sit down—like a good boy. Here's the soup coming. Now start and try to make up for lost time."

She ran to her room and threw off her hat and mantle. Laughed at her reflection in the glass—a laugh inspired by sheer happiness. Then she crept softly into Gracie's room; the child was not yet asleep, though sleepy. Bending over the cot she kissed the little rosy face, and Gracie's arms went up and around the neck of her Dear Miss Mivvins.

Mrs. Seton-Carr had not been away from the dining room more than two minutes; when she returned to take her place at table mischievous Dick was ready waiting for her, said:

"What I want to know is, what the deuce you two have been sitting out on that blessed seat all night for? Why couldn't you come in like rational beings and sit in chairs and talk?"

"Never you mind, Dick; don't ask questions. Have some more soup?"

"Oh, you can't stop my mouth with soup! I have been kept without food for so long that I'm afraid to eat much! I expect it was some of that tommy-rot Prince Charlie was always flooding my ears with. About your eyes and hair and——"

"Now, Dick," interrupted Masters, "drop that please. It is a forbidden subject."

"Is it? I am not to talk about what you said?" He turned to his sister and continued: "What have you had to say then, Sis? Been telling him how you begged and prayed of me not to let him——"

"Dick! If you don't be quiet, I'll never forgive you!"

"Now, look here." Dick assumed an aggrieved tone. "Am I supposed not to talk at all? Is this house run on the silent system? I might just as well be having dinner in a deaf and dumb asylum."

"Talk sensibly then," said his sister patronisingly, "and we'll listen to you with pleasure."

"We! Oh, it's reached that stage, has it: plural! 'M very well. Let's take up a serious subject: horribly serious. Have you lunatics decided when your two throbbing hearts are going to be merged into one; when you are to be married?"

"Dick! Don't you want—let me pass you some more vegetables!"

"Don't stop his thirst for information," interposed Masters quietly. "He's got to be best man, so he may as well know. It is settled that we are to be married by special licence on New Year's Day."

"Oh, Prince Charlie!" she cried. "I never said—indeed I didn't——"

"No, dear," he replied calmly. "I know you did not. But you said that that woman I made love to on the boat—what was her name?—Amy—pass the sauce, Dick—alleged that I said it rested with me, so far as the naming of the day was concerned."

"How can you——"

"It occurred to me that that was a capital idea. I am not one of those superior persons; am never above taking a hint. I know I have had—thanks to you—the most unhappy end of a year. By way of compensation I am going—thanks to you again—to have a most happy beginning of one."

Dick viewed the consternation displayed on his sister's face to the accompaniment of a broad grin on his own, said:

"That's right! Start quarrelling now, even before you are tied up! Goodness knows what it will be like after, when you are sentenced to—I mean when you are linked for life. Miserable wretches! You have my sincerest sympathy; all my pity."

"It takes two to make a quarrel."

Prince Charlie uttering the aphorism. Then with a smile, holding out his hand to Mabel, he continued:

"You agree with me, don't you, darling? Just by your action convince this beardless youth that we are in accord about the first of January—if we are to be married on that day, put your hand in mine."

She hesitated a moment, perhaps her brother's derisive laugh helped to her action: she put it right there.

"There's one thing about this affair—having long been an acute sufferer from my headstrong sister's temper," said Dick, grinning all over his face—"about which I am distinctly displeased."

"You are going to make one of your terrible jokes, Dick!" she said. "I can see it in your face!"

"Oh, let him run loose," interposed Masters. "It's Christmas time, you know. What's the joke? If it's going to give us pain, out with it—as the boy said to the dentist."

"If you labour over one of your usual atrocious puns, Dick," warned his sister, "I'll throw you down and pummel you black and blue!"

"I was merely going to observe," said her brother, regardless of the threat, "that I was glad that at length you had found your master!"

He had to howl for mercy before she let him go.