“Well, my dear,” said the little woman, “so you have seen Sir Henry, and I hope that you have arranged everything satisfactorily?” Joan heard and smiled; even then it struck her as ludicrous that Mrs. Bird could possibly mistake Samuel Rock for Sir Henry Graves. But she did not attempt to undeceive her, since to do so would have involved long explanations, on which at the moment she had neither the wish nor the strength to enter; moreover, she was sure that Mrs. Bird would disapprove of this strange contract and oppose it with all her force. Even then, however, she could not help reflecting how oddly things had fallen out. It was as though some superior power were smoothing away every difficulty, and, to fulfil secret motives of its own, was pushing her into this hideous and shameful union. For instance, though she had never considered it, had not Mrs. Bird fatuously taken it for granted that her visitor must be Sir Henry and no other man, it was probable that she would have found means to prevent him from seeing her, or, failing that, she would have put a stop upon the project by communicating with Henry. For a moment Joan was tempted to tell her the truth and let her do what she would, in the hope that she might save her from herself. But she resisted the desire, and answered simply,— “Yes; I shall probably be married to-morrow or the next day.” “To-morrow!” ejaculated Mrs. Bird, holding up her hands. “Why, you haven’t even got a dress ready.” “I can do without that,” she replied, “especially as the ceremony is to be before a registrar.” “Before a registrar, Joan! Why, if I did such a thing I should never feel half married; besides, it’s wicked.” “Perhaps,” said Joan, smiling again; “but it is the only fashion in which it can be arranged, and it will serve our turn. By the way, shall you mind if I come back to live here afterwards?” “What, with your husband? There would not be room for two of you; besides, a baronet could never put up with a place like this.” “No, without him. We are going to keep separate for a year.” “Good heavens!” exclaimed Mrs. Bird, “what an extraordinary arrangement!” “There are difficulties, Mrs. Bird, and it is the only one that we could come to. I suppose that I can stay on?” “Oh! yes, if you like; but really I do not understand.” “I can’t explain just at present, dear,” said Joan gently. “I am too tired; you will know all about it soon.” “Well,” thought Mrs. Bird, as she left the room, “somehow I don’t like that baronet so much as I did. It is all so odd and secret. I hope that he doesn’t mean to deceive Joan with a false marriage and then to desert her. I have heard of people of rank doing such things. But if he tries it on he will have to reckon with me.” That afternoon Joan received the following telegram: “All arranged. Will call for you at two the day after to-morrow. Samuel.” CHAPTER XXXIV. THE OPENING OF THE GATE.