Scrymgeour had bravely resolved to explain everything now; but his bewilderment may be conceived when, on entering his saloon with the lady's father, the first thing they saw was the lady herself. The old gentleman gasped, and his daughter looked at Scrymgeour imploringly. "Now," said the father fiercely, "explain." The lady's tears became her vastly. Hardly knowing what he did, Scrymgeour put his arm around her. "Well, go on," I said, when at this point Scrymgeour stopped. "There is no more to tell," he replied; "you see the girl allowed me to--well, protect her--and--and the old gentleman thinks we are engaged." "I don't wonder. What does the lady say?" "She says that she ran along the bank and got into my house-boat by the plank, meaning to see me before her father arrived and to entreat me to run away." "With her?" "No, without her." "But what does she say about explaining matters to her father?" "She says she dare not, and as for me, I could not. That was why I telegraphed to you." "You want me to be intercessor? No, Scrymgeour; your only honorable course is marriage." "But you must help me. It is all your fault, teaching me to like the Arcadia Mixture." I thought this so impudent of Scrymgeour that I bade him good-night at once. All the men on the stair are still confident that he would have married her, had the lady not cut the knot by eloping with Scrymgeour's double. [Illustration] CHAPTER XVII. THE ROMANCE OF A PIPE-CLEANER. [Illustration] We continued to visit the _Arcadia_, though only one at a time now, and Gilray, who went most frequently, also remained longest. In other words, he was in love again, and this time she lived at Cookham. Marriot's love affairs I pushed from me with a wave of my pipe, but Gilray's second case was serious. In time, however, he returned to the Arcadia Mixture, though not until the house-boat was in its winter quarters. I witnessed his complete recovery, the scene being his chambers. Really it is rather a pathetic story, and so I give the telling of it to a rose, which the lady once presented to Gilray. Conceive the rose lying, as I saw it, on Gilray's hearth-rug, and then imagine it whispering as follows: "A wire was round me that white night on the river when she let him take me from her. Then I hated the wire. Alas! hear the end.