If Mrs Bradshaw required two bottles of eau-de-Cologne and water to support her when she heard of the elopement of Adele Chabot, I leave the reader to imagine how many she required, when an heiress entrusted to her charge had been guilty of a similar act. As Caroline had not left with me, I was not implicated, and the affair was most inscrutable. She had never been seen walking, or known to correspond with any young man. I suggested to Mrs Bradshaw that it was the fear of her father removing her from her protection which had induced her to run away, and that most probably she had gone to her aunt Bathurst's. Upon this hint, she wrote to Mr Stanhope, acquainting him with his daughter's disappearance, and giving it as her opinion that she had gone to her aunt's, being very unwilling to return home. Mr Stanhope was furious; he immediately drove to Madame Bathurst's, whom he had not seen for a long time, and demanded his daughter. Madame Bathurst declared that she knew nothing about her. Mr Stanhope expressed his disbelief, and they parted in high words. A few days afterwards, the Colonel and Adele came to town, the three months acceded to her wishes having expired; and now I must relate what I did not know till some days afterwards, when I saw Adele, and who had the narrative from her husband. It appeared, that as soon as the Colonel arrived in London, still persuaded that he had married Caroline Stanhope, and not Adele Chabot, without stating his intention to her, he went to Grosvenor Square, and requested to see Mr Stanhope. This was about a fortnight after Caroline's elopement with Mr Selwyn. He was admitted, and found Mr and Mrs Stanhope in the drawing-room. He had sent up his card, and Mr Stanhope received him with great hauteur. "What may your pleasure be with me, sir?" (looking at the card). "Colonel Jervis, I think you call yourself?" Now, Colonel Jervis was a man well known about town, and, in his own opinion, not to know him argued yourself unknown; he was, therefore, not a little angry at this reception, and being a really well-bred man, was also much startled with the vulgarity of both parties. "My name, Mr Stanhope, as you are pleased to observe," said the Colonel, with hauteur, "is Jervis, and my business with you is relative to your daughter." "My daughter, sir?" "Our daughter! Why, you don't mean to tell us that _you_ have run away with our daughter?" screamed Mrs Stanhope. "Yes, madam, such is the fact; she is now my wife, and I trust that she is not married beneath herself." "A Colonel!--a paltry Colonel!--a match for my daughter! Why, with her fortune she might have married a Duke," screamed Mrs Stanhope. "I'll never speak to the wretch again. A Colonel, indeed! I suppose a Militia-Colonel. I daresay you are only a Captain, after all. Well, take her to barracks, and to barracks yourself. You may leave the house. Not a penny--no, not a penny do you get. Does he, Stanhope?"