He looked up to see the effect of his speech, but Miss Gillespie was looking full at him with an expression of great interest and a very pleasant smile, as if she were listening to the narration of a thrilling story with which she had no connection save that of listener. "Did he indeed say all that?" said she, after a pause. "Oh, he's a most terrible old man, and whatever he determines on, he never fails of carrying out. However, I think I won't put him to much trouble this time." "How do you mean?" "Well, do you know I've a strong mind to save you any further worry, and to crown you with glory by allowing you to carry me back in triumph." "You don't say so! but this is too sudden, you know. I don't put much trust in such sudden conversions." "Mine is not the least sudden. I generally act on the impulse of the moment. That now urges me to go back to my old life. The shackles of this respectability are beginning to strain a little. I feel cramped by them occasionally, and I suppose I have originally something of the Bohemian in my nature, for you have fired me with au ardent longing for freedom and irresponsibility." "That's right!" cried Mr. Effingham, delighted at the success of his scheme; "that's just as it should be. It's all very well for those swells to live on here, and go on their daily round. They've got the best of it, so far as they know; but they haven't seen as much as we have. They don't know the pleasure of--well, of pitting your wits against somebody else who think themselves deuced sharp, and beating them, do they?" "No," said Miss Gillespie, with her crispest little laugh; "of course they don't." "Well, now," said Mr. Effingham, "you know what old Lyons is, reg'lar man of business; want's everything done at once, right off the reel. When will you be ready to start?" "What a practical man you are, Mr. Butler!" cried she, still laughing; "it will be quite delightful to get back again into the society of practical people after all this easy-going _laissez-aller_ time. But you must not be too hard upon me at first. I've several things to do." "You won't be saying 'goodbye' to anybody or anything of that sort?" "O no, nothing of that sort, you may depend." "That's right; you mean putting your things together, eh?" "Yes; packing and getting ready to start." "Well, twenty-four hours will be enough for that, I should think. Suppose we say to-morrow at noon?" "Ye-es, give me a little longer: say two in the afternoon, then I shall be perfectly ready." "And where shall we meet?" "We must get across to the rail at once. Not to Torquay; there's a small station nearer here, where they won't think of looking for us. Not that I suppose they'd take any trouble of that kind when they find I'm once gone. However, it's best to be prepared. Can you drive?" "I should think so!" said Mr. Effingham with a chuckle. "I've driven most things, from a shofle-cab in town to the mail-sleigh in Canada!"