"And Caroline Miller and Edward Blair?"
"Lucy and your son, sir. I was doubtful of them from the first, afraid that their feelings might betray them."
"Rowe," said Mr. Weston to the landlord of the Silver Flagon, "you had a doorkeeper?"
"Yes--Michael Lee by name."
"Where is he?"
Margaret interposed. "That is one of my secrets, sir. My father had not seen your friend, Gerald Hart, until he introduced himself to-night."
"Until he introduced himself to-night!" exclaimed Gideon Rowe. "Nay, I have never yet seen Mr. Hart."
"You have," replied Margaret, with a smile; "he is Michael Lee."
* * * * * *
Thus, by this strange and bold device, our Margaret won the day. Truly, it was a triumph of love. As Richard Weston and Gerald Hart stood face to face clasping hands once more, and as they turned towards their children, who were radiant with joy, Margaret murmured to herself the name of "Philip," and looked up to heaven, not unhappily. They remained together until morning broke. As the wondrous colours came into the sky, Margaret said to Mr. Hart: