Tears and lamentations made up the story of the next few days. "When's the washing coming home? I've cried out all my handkerchiefs, and I get scolded if I sniff!" grumbled red-eyed Jill on the evening of the third day after Miles' departure; and it appeared that most members of the family found themselves in the same predicament, for the first break in the family circle is a painful experience, especially when its members are as devoted as were the Trevors. It was a relief to all to watch the progress of the General's wooing, and to have his genial presence among them. Now that the evenings were beginning to be really summer-like, he and Miss Beveridge would adjourn to the Square Gardens after dinner, and sit on a bench not far removed from that historic spot where he had fallen a victim to the twins' love of adventure. As a rule, so soon as dusk approached, Miss Beveridge would take an omnibus and return to her "Home," while the General would step stiffly into a cab and return to his flat, where the faithful Johnson was no doubt wondering what had happened to induce such young habits in his once stay-at-home master. One night, however, instead of separating as usual, they returned to Number 1, and the first glance at their faces showed that the _denouement_ had been reached. The General was red, Miss Beveridge was white; he was voluble with excitement, she was too excited to speak. Mrs Trevor read the signs of the times, and thoughtfully led the way to the drawing-room, so that the formal announcement of the engagement could be made away from the somewhat embarrassing scrutiny of the young people. "Alice has promised to let me take care of her! Congratulate me, my dear madam. I am the happiest man in the world!" cried the excited Irishman. "We have wasted enough time, but we are not going to waste any more. `Haste to the wedding!'--that's our motto. What? Alice talks about clothes. Fiddlesticks, I tell her! We can buy the finest dress in London in half an hour's time, or my name's not Terence Digby. Then she talks about pupils. Pack of rubbish, I tell her! There are fifty women in London wanting to give lessons, for every pupil who wants to learn. Let someone else hear the `nid, nid, nodding' for a change!" (This last was a dark reference to the Scotch air with which poor Pam had been wrestling for weeks past.) "`A June wedding!' Always said I'd be married in June if I had the chance, and it's a poor thing if I can't have my way after waiting twenty years. Don't like July--nasty, treacherous month! Best way to spend it is a honeymoon in the country. What? You'll tell the boys and girls, eh? Tell them after we've gone. Too bashful to stand the racket to-night! Besides, there's Johnson to face. Bit of a pill to face Johnson. What? Don't know what he'll say to a mistress, but it will be all right when he sees Alice. Alice will get over him fast enough!"