"Ah, but I want more," she persisted. "I shall consider myself a horrid mischief-maker if I don’t see that you are more attentive and kind to Louie Drexel than ever. It’s your duty. It’s your place as groomsman. You’ll have to propose their health at the wedding-breakfast; and of course you’ll say something nice about American girls—could you say anything too nice, I wonder?—and you’ll have to say it with an air of conviction. For they’ll expect you to speak well, of course: you, a young member of Parliament; and where could you find a more welcome toast, at a wedding-breakfast, than the toast of the unmarried young ladies? Yes, yes; you’ll have plenty of opportunity of lecturing a sleepy House of Commons about Leasehold Enfranchisement and things of that kind; but this is quite another sort of chance; and I’m looking forward to my nephew distinguishing himself—as he ought to do, when he will have Louie and Anna Drexel listening." And here this astute and insidious adviser ceased, for her future husband came into the room, to pay his last afternoon call. Whether Vincent spoke well or ill on that auspicious occasion does not concern us here: it only needs to be said that the ceremony, and the quiet little festivities following, all passed off very satisfactorily; and that bride and bridegroom (the former being no novice) drove away radiant and happy, amid the usual symbolic showers. It was understood they were to break their journey southward at Paris for a few days; and Vincent—who had meanwhile slipped along to his hotel to change his attire—went up to the railway station to see them off. He was surprised to find both the Drexel girls there. "Now, look here, Vin," said the charming, tall, pretty-eyed, and not inexperienced bride, "I want you to do me a favour. If a woman isn’t to be humoured and petted on her wedding day—when, then? Well, Louie and Anna don’t return to town till to-morrow morning; and what are they to do in that empty house with old Mrs. Smythe? I want you to take them in hand for the afternoon—to please me. Leave that wretched House of Commons for one more evening: in any case you couldn’t go up now before the five o’clock express." And then she turned to the two young ladies. "Louie, Vincent has promised to look after you two girls; and he’ll see you safely into your train to-morrow morning. So you must do your best to entertain him in the meanwhile; the afternoon will be the dullest—you must find something to amuse yourselves with——" Miss Drexel seemed a little self-conscious, and also inclined to laugh. "If he will trust himself entirely to us," said she, with covertly merry eyes fixed on the bride, "Anna and I will do our best. But he must put himself entirely in our charge. He must be ruled and governed. He must do everything we ask——"