"Bless him! of course he did. He has been badgering me for years past to look out for a wife; and when we met you he was clever enough to realise that you were the one woman to fill the post. If he had said as much to me at that stage of affairs, I should have packed up and made off within the hour; if he had said it to you, you would have felt it incumbent upon you to do the same. Instead, he let you go on in your illusion, while he designed the means of throwing us into each other's society. Good old Geoff! I'm not at all angry with him. Are you?" Margot considered the point, her head tilted to a thoughtful angle. "I'm--not--sure! I think I am, just a little bit, for I hate to be taken in. He was laughing at me all the time." "But after all, he has done what you wished! I envy him for being able to give you such pleasure; but perhaps I may be able to do as much in another way. Geoff tells me that Mr Martin has had financial troubles, and there is nothing I would not do to help any one who belongs to you. I'm out of my depths in poetry, but in business matters I can count, and in this case I shall not be satisfied until I _do_." Margot drew a long breath of contentment. "Oh, if Jack is happy, and Ron is successful, and I have--_You_!--there will be nothing left to wish for in all the world. Poor Ron! he is waiting eagerly to come in to thank you for publishing his verse, and wondering why in the world you wanted to see me alone. Don't you think you ought just to read it, to be able to say it is nice?" "No, I don't! You are all the poetry I can attend to to-night, and for goodness' sake keep him away; I shall have to interview your father later on, but after waiting all these weeks I must have you to myself a little longer." "Oh, I won't send for him. I don't want him a bit," cried Margot naively, "but he will come!" And he did! Waiting downstairs in the study, an hour seemed an absurd length of time, and when no summons came Ron determined to take the law in his own hands and join the conference. The tableau which was revealed to him on opening the drawing-room door struck him dumb with amazement, and the explanations which ensued appeared still more extraordinary. George Elgood speedily beat a retreat to the study, where Mr Vane listened to his request with quiet resignation. Elderly, grey-haired fathers have a way of seeing more than their children suspect, and Margot's father had recognised certain well-known signs in the manner in which he had been questioned concerning his daughter's progress during those anxious days at Glenaire. His heart sank as he listened to the lover's protestations, but he told himself that he ought to be thankful to know that his little Margot had chosen a man of unblemished character, who was of an age to appreciate his responsibility, possessed an income sufficient to keep her in comfort, and, last but not least, a home within easy distance of his own.