Lady Germaine rose up from the bench on which she had flung herself. “Oh, Duke!” she cried, “don’t you see things have gone too far? Leave her with me. She will not be compromised with me. Have pity upon your own child! Don’t you see, don’t you see that it is too late to stop it now?” “Lady Germaine!” cried the Duke, “I hope you can forgive yourself for your share in this, but I cannot forgive you. Certainly my daughter shall not go with you. There is but one house to which she can go--her father’s.” He tightened his hold on her arm as he spoke. “Jane!--this scene is disgraceful to all of us. Put a stop to it at once. Come home; it is the only place for you now.” Then there was a pause, and they all looked at each other with a mute consultation. The little ring of spectators stood and listened. Mrs Marston, with the tears scarcely dried from her eyes, watched them with fluttered eagerness, expecting the moment when the Duke should come and thank her for the warning he had received. She was compunctious for the sake of the young people; but yet to have the thanks of the Duke---- The Rector had made haste to get out of his surplice, and now came out with a little importance and the same idea in his mind. Lady Jane was the first to speak. She said, “It is cruel for us all; but perhaps my father is right, things being as they are. I cannot go with you, Reginald, to our own house.” Winton’s voice came with a burst, half-groan, half-sob, uncontrollable. “God help us! I don’t suppose you can, my darling--till to-morrow.” “Till to-morrow! Then I will go home to my father’s now. Oh no,” she said, shrinking back a little, “not with you. Reginald will take me home.” “Let go my daughter, sir!” the Duke said. “He shall not touch you. He shall not come near you. What! do you persist? Give her up, Winton; do you hear me? She says she will come home.” “Father,” said Lady Jane very low, “it is you who are forgetting our dignity. I will go home, if Reginald takes me; but not with you. I suppose no one doubts our honour. It is not the time for delay now, after you have done all this. Reginald will take me home.” What the Duke said further it is scarcely necessary to record. He had to stand by at last, half stupefied, and watch them walk down the aisle arm in arm, bride and bridegroom, to the evidence of everybody’s senses. He followed himself as in a dream, and got in, cowed, but vowing vengeance, into the cab, which was all his Grace could find to reach St Alban’s in from the railway,--and in that followed the brougham which conveyed his daughter and her--not husband, and yet not lover--to Grosvenor Square. But when he had once got her there!