"Since you will not be reasonable, I have another plan to suggest: I will give up my prospects of fortune in France, and will live here in this rotten Old Swan as long as you live, never taking Betty from your side. If you do not give her to me under these conditions, I will take her away without any conditions. Eh, Betty?"
Betty hung in the wind for a moment, then nodded slowly:—
"Yes."
Pickering covered his face with his hands for a moment, then looked up to me and asked:—
"Would you do that, baron? Would you come down from your high estate to our lowly condition for the sake of my poor little girl?"
"Yes, Pickering," I answered.
Then after a moment's thought, he said: "I'll sell the Old Swan and go with you to France."
Betty took my hand, then she grasped her father's, drew him down to her and kissed him.
So Betty and I were married in the little chapel at the Southwark end of London Bridge, and off we went to our friends in France, where God blessed us and we were very happy. We had all been tried by the Touchstone of Fortune, and had won her Ladyship's smile! May God comfort those on whom she frowns!