He said at the time he knew her—’twas a planned and plotted thing!
And now she was always with him, they chatted and laughed away;
She was cold and dull with Sir Rupert,—with him she was kind and gay.
She was weary of playing my lady, and of being Sir Rupert’s wife—
She pined for the tinsel glories of the old Bohemian life.
She hated the dull decorum, she hated the legal tie—
Her cage was a cage, though gilded. Then the tempter whispered “Fly!”
One night their chairs were empty, and slowly the news leaked out:
Two horses were gone from the stable—’twas a settled thing, no doubt.
Sir Rupert was white with horror, but he turned to the gaping crew