'I will tell you that now, Nick, since you have an hour to spare;' and, going up to Wogan's room, Mr. Kelly related to him the story of his meeting with the Colonel in the Park, of the disturbance with the Messengers in his rooms, and of the saving of Smilinda, and how his love for Rose urged him to it. It was eight o'clock when he had come to an end. Mr. Wogan heard the clocks striking the hour. 'It will take me an hour to get to Dulwich,' he said, 'so I have three hours to spare. George, have you seen Rose?' 'No; but she knows that I am free, for Lady Mary sent the news to her.' 'That's a pity,' said Wogan, pursing his lips. 'On the contrary, it was not the least kind of Lady Mary's many kindnesses,' said George, who was astonished at Mr. Wogan's cruelty, that would have left the girl in her anxieties a moment longer than was necessary. 'Had she not heard the news till it was stale, she would never have forgiven me--she that has forgiven me so much,' said he, with more sentiment than logic. 'Oh,' said Wogan, 'she has forgiven you so much? My young friend, you are very certain upon a very uncertain point. There's that little matter of her ladyship's miniature.' Mr. Kelly looked anxiously at Wogan. 'True,' said he; 'I told her a lie about it at Avignon, and made out it was the likeness of Queen Clementina.' 'The lie is the smallest part of the difficulty. She wore the miniature, and wore it in Lady Oxford's withdrawing-room. There's the trouble, for there's the humiliation.' 'But, Nick,' said Kelly, 'she forgave it. Didn't I escort her to her chair? Didn't I feel her hand upon the sleeve of my coat?' 'Oh! she carried herself very bravely, never a doubt of that. For one thing, you were in peril; and, to be sure, she will have kept a liking for you at the worst of it. For another, Lady Oxford was there, and Lady Oxford was not to win the day. My little friend Rose is a girl of an uncommon spirit, and would hold her own against any woman, for all her modest ways. But, just because she has spirit, she will not meekly forgive you. If you expect her to droop humbly on to your bosom, you are entirely in the wrong of it. 'Oons! but it must have been a hard blow to her pride when she found she was in Lady Oxford's house, and knew who Lady Oxford was, and had that miniature about her throat. Will she forgive you at all? The best you have to hope is that she will be content with making your head sing. That she will do for a sure thing; and I think--' 'What?' asked the Parson. The danger of life, the Messengers, the angry Colonel, had only raised his blood; the fear of Rose drove it to his heart. He was now plainly scared.