O never-to-be-forgotten hour! Hour long dreamed and yet expected never, so swift to haste away but whose memory was to blossom, sweet and all unfading.
"Dear," said she at last, "since you are not for marriage 'à la mode' I shall plague you mightily——"
"God!" he exclaimed softly, "what a life 'twill be!"
But all at once she started from him as, afar off, a faint wailing arose:
"Betty, my love! O Bet—my Betty love!"
My lady frowned and rising, laid rosy finger to lip.
"Not a word yet, my John! Let our secret be ours awhile. Come, let us meet her."'
Slowly they went amid the roses and sighed for the hour that was gone and wondered to see the sun so low; and thus they presently beheld Lady Belinda twittering towards them escorted by the Sergeant and the tall, well-fed menial.
"O naughty Bet!" she cried, "O wicked puss and truant! I've sought thee this hour and more, I've called thee until my poor voice grew languishing and weak! Ah, dear Major, scold her for me, prithee scold!"
"Nay, madam," he answered, bowing, "I fear the blame is mine, I was for showing my lady the roses as 'twere, and—er——"