"At half-past ten there came a telegram from my runaway bride: "'Ask Roderick to forgive me, dear mamma. I found at the last that my heart was not mine to give, and I am married to Lord Mallow. I do not think my cousin will grieve very much.' "That last clause was sensible, anyhow, was it not, Vixen?" "I think the whole business was very sensible," said Vixen, with a sweet grave smile; "Lord Mallow wanted a clever wife and you did not. It was very wise of Lady Mabel to find that out before it was too late." "She will be very happy as Lady Mallow," said Roderick. "Mallow will legislate for Ireland, and she will rule him. He will have quite enough of Home Rule, poor beggar. Hibernia will be Mabelised. She is a dear good little thing. I quite love her, now she has jilted me." "But how did you come here?" asked Vixen, looking up at her lover in simple wonder. "All this happened only yesterday morning." "Is there not a steamer that leaves Southampton nightly? Had there not been one I would have chartered a boat for myself. I would have come in a cockle-shell--I would have come with a swimming-belt--I would have done anything wild and adventurous to hasten to my love. I started for Southampton the minute I had seen that too blessed telegram; went to St. Michael's, saw the register with its entry of Lord Mallow's marriage, hardly dry; and then went down to the docks and booked my berth. Oh, what a long day yesterday was--the longest day of my life!" "And of mine," sighed Vixen, between tears and laughter, "in spite of the Shepherd Kings." "Are those Jersey people you have picked up?" Rorie asked innocently. This turned the scale, and Vixen burst into a joyous peal of laughter. "How did you find me here?" she asked. "Very easily. Your custodian--what a grim-looking personage she is, by-the-way--told me where you were gone, and directed me how to follow you. I told her I had a most important message to deliver to you from your mother. You don't mind that artless device, I hope?" "Not much. How is dear mamma? She complains in her letters of not feeling very well." "I have not seen her lately. When I did, I thought her looking ill and worn. She will get well when you go back to her, Vixen. Your presence will be like sunshine." "I shall never go back to the Abbey House." "Yes, you will--for one fortnight at least. After that your home will be at Briarwood. You must be married from your father's house." "Who said I was going to be married, sir?" asked Vixen, with delicious coquetry. "I said it--I say it. Do you think I am too bold, darling? Ought I to go on my knees, love, and make you a formal offer? Why I have loved you all my life; and I think you have loved me as long." "So I have, Rorie," she answered softly, shyly, sweetly. "I forswore myself that night in the fir-wood. I always loved you; there was no stage of my life when you were not dearer to me than anyone on earth, except my father."