"Yes, yes, my darling, and I am so glad to see you again; but what a devil of a wicked girl you have been to bolt." "Oh, but, papa darling, I couldn't--I couldn't marry that man." "Well, well, well," chuckled Lord Barmouth, "he was a miserable screw for a girl like you. But I--I hear that he's going to shoot him first time he sees him." "Oh, papa! Then they must never meet." "But--but I'm not saying what I meant to say--all I'd got ready for you, Maudey. How dare you disgrace your family like that?" "Don't--don't blame me, papa darling. You don't know what I suffered before I consented to go." "But, you know--" "Oh, papa, don't blame your poor girl, who loves you so very dearly." "But--but it's such a doose of a come down, my darling. It's--it's-- it's ten times worse than any case I know." "Papa, for shame!" cried Maude, indignantly. "Now--now--now, don't you begin to bully me, Maudey my dear. I get so much of that at home." "Then you will forgive me, dear?" said Maude, nestling up to the poor weak old man. "But--but I oughtn't, Maudey, I oughtn't, you know," he said, caressing her. "But you will, dear, and you'll come and stay with us often. We are so happy." "Are so--so happy!" said the old man, with a look of perplexity on his countenance. "Yes, dear. He loves me so, and--oh, papa, I do love him. You will come? Never mind what mamma and Tom say." "But Tom is like a madman about it, Maudey. He says he'll have you back if he dies for it." "Oh, papa!" "Yes, my pet, he's in a devil of a rage, and it comes out dreadfully every time he grows tired." "Then _they_ must not meet either." "No, my dear, I suppose it would be best not," said the old man; "but-- but do you know, Maudey, I feel as if I was between those two confounded stools in the proverb, and--and I know I shall come to the ground. But--but where--where did you get married?" "At a little church, papa dear, close to Holborn." "Of course," groaned the old man to himself. "Close to Saffron Hill, I suppose." "I don't know the street, papa dear." "That's right, my pet. I mean that's wrong. I--I--really, Maudey my pet, I'm so upset with the travelling, and now with finding you, that I--I hardly know what I ought to say." "Say you forgive your own little girl, dear, and that you will love my own darling husband as if he were your son." "But--but, Maudey, my dear, I don't feel as if I could. You see when a poor man like that--I wish Tom would come." "Tom!" cried Maude, springing up and turning pale. "Yes, yes, he's coming to join me, my pet. Would you like to see him now, or--or--or wait a bit till he isn't so furious?" "Oh, papa dear, I dare not meet him. They would quarrel, and what shall I do? We must escape--" "But are you staying in this hotel?" "Yes, papa dear." "That's--that's doosed awkward, my pet, for I shouldn't like there to be a row." "No, no, pa dear. Don't say a word to Tom, or there will be a horrible scene."