"Confound your hundred guineas! Sit down, and listen to me. I am an expatriated man."
"How?" said Mr. Palk, quietly taking a chair.
"Miss Napier is going to be my wife; and I know she will never have the courage to confront my friends—rather, I should say, I shall never allow her to sue in any way for recognition from them. You see? Then I shouldn't like to have my wife brought face to face with people who have paid to see her; and so—and so, Jack, I am going to give up England."
"You are paying a long price for wedded happiness, Harry."
"There I differ with you, Jack. But never mind. I want you to help me in getting up a quiet little wedding down in Berks; for I know she will never consent to meeting my relatives and all the riff-raff of my acquaintances——"
"Thank you, Harry."
"And I am sure she will be glad to leave the stage at once, if that is possible."
"What a pace you have! You're at the end of everything when other people are thinking of the beginning. But, in good faith, Harry, you are to be congratulated; and you may rely on my services and secrecy to the last."
And to Harry Ormond, when he went outside that night, it seemed as if all the air around him were full of music.
CHAPTER II.