“He is in his study. He wants to see you both. Dear child, you have my congratulations--and you too, Winwood.” Josephine was in Sir Creighton’s arms before he had finished speaking. “We are starving. What has happened?” cried Amber with some awe in her voice, when Josephine and Pierce had disappeared. “The time-fuse has burnt itself down--that’s all,” said her father. “Listen: you can almost hear Mr. West telling his daughter that his fondest wish has always been for her happiness, and that he is ready to sacrifice all his aspirations and ambitions in order that she may marry the man whom she loves. That is what he is saying just now.” And, sure enough, that was exactly what Mr. West was saying at that moment. “But the time-fuse?” said Amber. “Time-fuse--the time-fuse,” said Lord Lullworth. “Ah, that reminds me--well, I may as well get it over at once, Sir Creighton. The fact is that I--I have--well, I gave myself a time-fuse of six months to fall in love with your daughter, but the explosion has come a good deal sooner than I expected. She says that she thinks that she may come to think about me as I do of her, in about four months.” “Oh, less than four months, now,” cried Amber. “It was four months half an hour ago. Half an hour of the time-fuse has burnt away. And it’s not the real Severn time-fuse, I know, for I’ve no confidence that the climax may not be reached at any time.” “You are a pair of young fools,” said Sir Creighton. “And yet--well, I don’t know. You may be the two wisest people in the world.” “Great Queen of Sheba! we can’t be so bad as all that,” said Lord Lull worth. THE END. End of Project Gutenberg’s According to Plato, by Frank Frankfort Moore