"Well, I see that, now you have got all you want out of me, I am one too many. No? Ah, you are too polite to say so, but I was young once, and——To-morrow you will find the Dene uninhabited, the furniture it contains being left as a present to the next tenant. If you care for any little memento, you are at liberty to adopt Horncastle's profession for the nonce—you will find the door unlocked, and the old house is no longer a hiding-place for secrets and bogies. Well, good-bye. I think I have earned my rest."
He rose, and the young couple accompanied him to the door, where they took a cordial leave of him.
Returning to the drawing-room, Laurence informed his fair companion of the remarks made by Mrs. Knox.
"She said that we were to settle the matter ourselves," he added; "and now, dear, that the mystery is solved, you have no excuse for withholding your answer. What is it to be—Lena?" He paused, from nervousness, then proceeded, when the girl hung her head and made no reply: "You know your aunt would be very disappointed if you didn't accept her choice of a husband!"
"Auntie wouldn't care in the least," replied Lena, laughing lightly. "You won't be angry, will you, if I confess I told her to say what she did?"
"Lena!"
"I thought it would be such a splendid joke to pretend I was already engaged, only auntie didn't keep it up long enough. She's a good old thing, rather dense, but good nature itself. I can twist her round my little finger."
"That's not the question," replied Laurence, seizing the opportunity—and her hand; "what I want to know is if I may twist something else—not Mrs. Knox—round one of your little fingers. May I?"
Lena's reply was not a verbal one, but it was quite as expressive as any words could have been!