“You can vote, my dear child, just as well as I can,” replied the old lady. “Architecture is one of the lost arts. You know nothing about it; I know nothing about it; the architects themselves know nothing about it. One plan is, no doubt, just as bad as the other. Vote, as I should vote, with the majority. Or as poor dear Dr. Johnson said, ‘Shout with the loudest mob.’ Away with you--and don’t keep the committee waiting.” Horace hastened to open the door for Mercy. “How long shall you be away?” he whispered, confidentially. “I had a thousand things to say to you, and they have interrupted us.” “I shall be back in an hour.” “We shall have the room to ourselves by that time. Come here when you return. You will find me waiting for you.” Mercy pressed his hand significantly and went out. Lady Janet turned to Julian, who had thus far remained in the background, still, to all appearance, as unwilling as ever to enlighten his aunt. “Well?” she said. “What is tying your tongue now? Grace is out of the room; why won’t you begin? Is Horace in the way?” “Not in the least. I am only a little uneasy--” “Uneasy about what?” “I am afraid you have put that charming creature to some inconvenience in sending her away just at this time.” Horace looked up suddenly, with a flush on his face. “When you say ‘that charming creature,’” he asked, sharply, “I suppose you mean Miss Roseberry?” “Certainly,” answered Julian. “Why not?” Lady Janet interposed. “Gently, Julian,” she said. “Grace has only been introduced to you hitherto in the character of my adopted daughter--” “And it seems to be high time,” Horace added, haughtily, “that I should present her next in the character of my engaged wife.” Julian looked at Horace as if he could hardly credit the evidence of his own ears. “Your wife!” he exclaimed, with an irrepressible outburst of disappointment and surprise. “Yes. My wife,” returned Horace. “We are to be married in a fortnight. May I ask,” he added, with angry humility, “if you disapprove of the marriage?” Lady Janet interposed once more. “Nonsense, Horace,” she said. “Julian congratulates you, of course.” Julian coldly and absently echoed the words. “Oh, yes! I congratulate you, of course.” Lady Janet returned to the main object of the interview. “Now we thoroughly understand one another,” she said, “let us speak of a lady who has dropped out of the conversation for the last minute or two. I mean, Julian, the mysterious lady of your letter. We are alone, as you desired. Lift the veil, my reverend nephew, which hides her from mortal eyes! Blush, if you like--and can. Is she the future Mrs. Julian Gray?” “She is a perfect stranger to me,” Julian answered, quietly. “A perfect stranger! You wrote me word you were interested in her.” “I _am_ interested in her. And, what is more, you are interested in her, too.”