“Nevertheless you must tell him, all the same; you are not a child now. And when you point out to him that his silence for two years and a half left you to a certain extent your own mistress, and that your unlucky marriage was the result of the reins being thrown on your neck----” “Now, Laurence!” putting her hand on his arm, “you know I won’t listen to that; and if the worst comes to the worst, I can run away _again_!” “So you can; and I think in another fortnight I shall be fit for--for harness. Jessop says----” “If Mr. Jessop say anything so wicked, he and I will quarrel!” exclaimed Madeline indignantly. “You are not to do anything for three months; there is plenty of money left yet.” “Yes; but, Maddie,” producing some notes, “you know you can’t appear before your father like that,” pointing to her dress. “You will need a couple of decent gowns; and I don’t think much of that hat. You must take forty pounds, without any nonsense, you know.” “No, I won’t,” pushing it away impatiently. “I don’t require it.” “But you do, and must take it, and do as I desire you--goodness knows it’s little enough! Promise me to spend every farthing on yourself. You ought to be respectably dressed when you meet your father. Where is your common sense? And naturally he will ask--Where is the hundred pounds he gave you for new frocks? Remember, Maddie, if he is _very_ angry, you can always come back to me”--kissing her. “And now that I am not so down on my luck, I feel anxious to work for you, and the sooner the better; and the sooner you return the better. Here is Holt,” as the farmer, driving a slashing long-tailed colt, came quickly round the corner into view. “He is driving that crazy four-year-old! I hope he will take care of you. Mind you leave her there safely, farmer,” as his nimble wife climbed up into the lofty dog-cart. “Good-bye, Maddie; be sure you write to-morrow.” Stepping aside as they dashed through the gate, carried forward by the impatient chestnut. Madeline looked back, and waved her handkerchief. Yes, he was still standing gazing after them, even when they had gone quite a distance; finally she applied the handkerchief to her eyes. “Now, don’t take on so, ma’am,” murmured the farmer, his eyes fixed on the colt’s quivering ears. “We’ll take good care of him! He is a real nice young gentleman; and as to baby, I don’t see how the missus will ever part with him. You cheer up! Ain’t you a-going to meet your father?” “Yes, Mr. Holt,” she faltered; “but I may as well tell you that he has not seen me for more than twelve years. He--I--we thought he was dead. He does not know that I am married!” “Oh, great gooseberries!” ejaculated her listener emphatically. “What a taking he’ll be in!” “No, and he is not to know just yet. I am Miss West, not Mrs. Wynne, until I have paved the way. I’ve told your wife all about it; she knows.”