"In return you have saved mine," murmured Owain. "Had you not nursed me back to life and love, where should I have been now? But the clouds have disappeared, my dear, and now the sunshine of life is ours. In three weeks we will get married quietly and go abroad for a year. Afterwards we can return to take up our position here."
"And you will go back to your old home, Miss Evans," said Vane, laughing. "Not much change about that."
"A great deal of change!" cried Gwen hotly. "While I lived there with my poor father, the Grange was a house of hate; now it will be a mansion of love."
"Quite so; you will be so happy that you won't want to see any one."
"Always you, Jim," said Owain, holding out his hand, which the barrister took.
"And me also, I hope," said Mrs. Perage, entering unexpectedly from the conservatory. "Hum! A touching tableau. The sweetheart, the angel of the sweetheart, and the true-hearted friend. Fudge!"
"You don't mean that word!" cried Gwen.
"Perhaps I don't." Mrs. Perage rubbed her nose. "For to tell you the truth, I don't know what the word means. I got it out of 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' and it seemed useful. I should like to have used it to that old woman who is screaming viciously all the way down the avenue. Really, young man, you have some very queer friends."
"Well, I lived in Queer Street for a long time, you know!" said Owain, smiling.
"You'll never live there again," whispered Gwen.