Now I had not intended to make love to Daphne for some weeks to come, but the present occasion was too tempting to be thrown away. As Angelo himself had very justly remarked on a similar occasion, "Who can forge chains for love, and say, 'To-day thou shalt be dumb; to-morrow thou shalt speak?'" "Daphne," said I, "I am going to let you into a secret." "A secret?" she repeated. "Yes; you have always taken me into your confidences"--this was scarcely true, but it served to pave the way for what was to follow--"so I am going to take you into mine." I paused to admire the look of mystification in her bright eyes. "What will you think," I continued, speaking very slowly and deliberately, "when I say that I have fallen in love with one of the ladies here at the Abbey?" "Are you in earnest?" she asked, trembling all over, and gently endeavouring to free herself from my embrace. "So much so," I replied gravely, "that I am going to propose to her this very day." Daphne's tongue seemed frozen. "Well," I said, "aren't you going to wish me success?" "Tell me her name. Who is she?" she gasped. "I have her portrait here--somewhere--in a locket--that I'm going to give her as a Christmas gift," I replied with apparent unconcern, fumbling in my pockets for it; and while I was doing so Daphne contrived to withdraw from my embrace. I drew forth the locket and handed it to her. It contained, instead of a portrait, a tiny mirror, whose convexity of surface diminished the objects reflected by it. "You have made a mistake," she replied coldly, returning the locket. "There is no portrait here; nothing but a little mirror." "No; I do not mistake. If you look again you will see the face of her I love." She gazed at me for a few seconds before my meaning became clear, and then gave a little cry: "Oh, Frank!" And Eros and Anteros at last kissed each other. I was alone in the drawing-room, the happiest mortal beneath the roof of Silverdale. Daphne had gone off to change her dress. She was going to help the guests in their work of decorating the church with holly and other Christmas emblems. As the party were to lunch at the Vicarage, they would be absent a considerable part of the day. My language implied that I was not going to form one of this party. Such was the case. With many expressions of regret for my seeming want of gallantry on this day of all others, I had claimed indulgence of Daphne to remain behind at the Abbey on the fictitious plea that Sir Hugh was desirous of consulting my uncle and myself together with some speculator from London, on the formation of a company for the purpose of working a vein of lead recently discovered on the Silverdale estate. The truth was that the Baronet had determined to avail himself of the absence of his guests to make a thorough search for the lost picture, and I was desirous of helping him.