“I will go with you, Adrian,” she said, simply.
“Bless you, my own!” he exclaimed, joyfully, then added, in tones of regret: “It is not a fitting way to wed you, I know—not as I had fondly hoped it would be, when I planned to lead you before my friends, and wed you openly, as befits your station and mine; but,” he added lightly, “when once we are settled we will make a great feast, and all shall do honor to my wife. But we must not delay longer if we would escape observation. But, first, I have something for you—I brought it last evening.” He then took the ring from his pocket and put it upon her finger, saying as he did so: “There, that seals our vows so far.”
He then took his cloak from his own shoulders, and, wrapping it closely around her, led her by an unfrequented path to the spot where he had left his carriage.
He drove directly to Nurse Clum’s, where, giving his betrothed into Milly’s hands to be fed and cared for, he secured a private interview with the former, told her his plans, and what he thought necessary of the circumstances which seemed to make them advisable.
The faithful old nurse shook her head when he told her that he was braving his grandfather’s displeasure; but she saw he was determined upon the course he had marked out, and she could not say him nay.
Milly was delighted at the prospect of being lady’s maid to a bride, and was charmed with the sweet lady who was to be Master Adrian’s wife.
They took as early a train as possible from West Malling, in order to escape observation, and before noon they were all comfortably settled in London, Brownie and her two companions having an elegant suite of rooms at the Langham Hotel, in Portland Place, the most fashionable quarter of the city, while Adrian returned to his own private apartments in St. James Street.
Before sundown he had procured the special license, and believed himself the happiest man alive, the only cloud being the disapproval of his grandfather, and this, he trusted, time would overcome.
Meantime, Brownie, in company with Milly, visited a fashionable ladies’ furnishing house, and procured the most suitable outfit it was possible to procure at so short a notice, and gave orders for several other articles of apparel which she would need in the future.
The next morning a quiet little wedding party alighted at St. George’s Church, Hanover Square, at eleven o’clock, and, leading his beautiful betrothed proudly up the grand aisle, Adrian Dredmond stopped before the gray-haired rector, and the twain were made one.