This turned the scale, and Vixen burst into a joyous peal of laughter.
"How did you find me here?" she asked.
"Very easily. Your custodian—what a grim-looking personage she is, by-the-way—told me where you were gone, and directed me how to follow you. I told her I had a most important message to deliver to you from your mother. You don't mind that artless device, I hope?"
"Not much. How is dear mamma? She complains in her letters of not feeling very well."
"I have not seen her lately. When I did, I thought her looking ill and worn. She will get well when you go back to her, Vixen. Your presence will be like sunshine."
"I shall never go back to the Abbey House."
"Yes, you will—for one fortnight at least. After that your home will be at Briarwood. You must be married from your father's house."
"Who said I was going to be married, sir?" asked Vixen, with delicious coquetry.
"I said it—I say it. Do you think I am too bold, darling? Ought I to go on my knees, love, and make you a formal offer? Why I have loved you all my life; and I think you have loved me as long."
"So I have, Rorie," she answered softly, shyly, sweetly. "I forswore myself that night in the fir-wood. I always loved you; there was no stage of my life when you were not dearer to me than anyone on earth, except my father."