"Diccon! You odious boy! Do you mean it's all a hoax?"
"Of course it is! Poor old Chorlton's as sane as you are! Oh, I say, Chorlton! Don't look so deliciously blank, or I shall have a fit!"
"This wretched boy told me you were mad," faltered Mildred apologetically to her companion.
"And he told me that you were mad, with a suicidal tendency," replied Mr. Chorlton.
"The whole thing worked out so neatly," chuckled naughty Diccon. "Please allow me to recount my own joke. I told Mildred that you were violent unless humoured on the subject of mediaevalism, and I told you that she might fling herself over the battlements if she were contradicted in supposing herself a lady of the Plantagenet period."
"You thoroughly deserve a thrashing, you young imp!" declared Mr. Chorlton.
"No, I don't. I've afforded you each a most exciting adventure. You didn't know Chorlton was a college friend of Eric's, Mildred? We only discovered last night that he's staying at Lowood Farm. I stuffed you about him for a lark, and then when I met him in the village just after you started, I couldn't resist the fun of playing a trick on you both. Chorlton was going to the Keep, too, so I told him a yarn about an unfortunate demented girl who occasionally escaped there and tried to commit suicide. He went up the battlements on purpose to cajole you down to safety. Oh, it was prime to hear you fencing with each other!" and Diccon rubbed his hands in his glee.
"I think you've treated Mr. Chorlton abominably," said Mildred.
"Then you'll consent to descend the staircase with me now?" said Mr. Chorlton, smiling.
"Yes, if you promise not to don trunk-hose and a velvet doublet."