‘It would, my precious!’ I answered; ‘but suppose on your introducing me your father should object?’
‘Oh no, Charles, he will not object,’ she exclaimed with a confident shake of the head.
‘In fact then, Laura,’ said I, ‘you are sure your papa will sanction our marriage?’
‘Quite sure, dear.’
‘Then would it not come to the same thing if we got married on our arrival in England?’
This was good logic, but it achieved nothing for me, and since I saw that her father’s sanction would contribute to the happiness of her married life I never again attempted to reason with her on the subject.
At last, one morning we found ourselves in the English Channel, bowling over the green ridges of it before a strong south-westerly wind, and within fifty hours of making the Lizard Light the brave little barque ‘Star of Peace’ was being warped to her berth in the East India Docks. Down to that very moment, incredible as it may seem, Lady Monson had given neither her sister nor myself the vaguest hint of what she intended to do. As we stood waiting to step ashore she arrived on deck and, approaching Laura, exclaimed,
‘Mr. Monson, I presume, will escort you to an hotel.’
‘Won’t you accompany us, Henrietta?’ her sister asked.
‘No, I choose to be independent. I shall go to such and such an hotel,’ and she named the house at which she had stopped with Colonel Hope-Kennedy when she arrived in London on her way to Southampton. ‘You can address me there, or call upon me, Laura. I have not yet decided on any steps. In all probability I shall return to Melbourne, but not at present.’