“I will, my dear, I will. I feel as brave as a lion now. I—I—oh, here she is.”
“What is the meaning of all this?” cried her ladyship, staring round at the scene, as Tryphie rushed at Maude, kissed her, and then at Charley Melton, and jumped up and kissed him.
“I always fancied that’s how it was,” she whispered.
“What’s the meaning of it?” cried Tom. “Why, we’ve found them. Here, allow me to take round the hat for the coppers; or will you do it now, Maude?”
“I repeat,” cried Lady Barmouth, “what is the meaning of this? Mr Melton, what are you doing here?”
“Asking your ladyship’s pardon for myself and my dear wife,” said Charley, taking Maude’s hand.
“Wife? Then! You! Oh, Maude, you wicked, wicked girl!”
“But, my dear,” said Lord Barmouth.
“Silence!” cried her ladyship, “Maude, you have utterly broken my heart, and—”
“Don’t you believe it, Maudey,” said Tom, grinning. “She’s only saying that to keep up appearances.”