She flew across the room and cast her two arms about the young man, who caught her to him and crushed her in a grip that fairly hurt.
"Merrylips!" he said in a shaky voice. "'Tis never Merrylips! How comest thou here? Why art thou still in that dress—"
"I promised!" Merrylips answered. "I told no one, save only Rupert. I kept my promise, indeed I kept it, Munn!"
If Munn had been younger, Merrylips would have thought that there were tears in his eyes, as he looked down at her.
"All these days," he said slowly, "among men—and used as a boy—and through my blame! Merrylips, thou poor little wench!"
"Come, come, Venner!" Dick Fowell's voice struck in, as he bent over the two. "Sure, man, your days in prison have clouded your wits. Do you not know your own brother, Tibbott?"
"Brother?" retorted Munn, in a high tone that sounded like his old self. "'Tis you are crazed, sir. This is my young sister, Sybil Venner."
Now if ever a young man who enjoyed surprising other folk, was neatly served, that young man was Lieutenant Dick Fowell. He stared at Merrylips, and rubbed his forehead, as if he could trust neither his eyes nor his ears.
The elder of the two girls broke into laughter and clapped her hands.
"Oh, Dick, thou shalt never hear the last of this!" she cried.