ed her thoughts; it was all a glorious
piece of fun, and of all the daring tricks she had perpetrated at the
Convent to get chocolates, or climb a tree, or have a midnight orgy of
cake and sirop, none had been so exciting as this--to go through the
ceremony of marriage and be free for life!

Her education had been of the most elementary, and the whole aim of
those placed over her had been to keep her as innocent and ignorant as a
child of ten. Not a single problem of life had ever presented itself to
her naturally intelligent mind. She had read no books, conversed with no
grown-up people, played with no one but her companions, three American
girls and a few French ones, and the simple Nuns. And since her
emancipation, she had but wandered in the English lakes with her uncle
and aunt and Samuel Greenbank, and so had come to Arranstoun like any
other tourist to see this famous castle still inhabited after eleven
hundred years.

In these days of women giving daily proof of their capability for
irritating mischief, if not of their ability to rule nations, Sabine
Delburg was a very unique being, and could not have existed but for a
combination of rare circumstances, as she was half American and half
French and had inherited the quick understanding of both nations. But
from the age of seven, she had never seen the outside world. It is not
my place, in any case, to explain what she was or was not. The creature,
with all her faults and charms, is there to speak for herself--and if
you, my friend, who are reading this tale on a summer's day do not feel
you want to hear any more of what happened to these two young things, by
all means put down the book and go your way!

So let us get back to Mr. Arranstoun's sitting-room and the June
afternoon, and we shall hear Miss Delburg saying, in her childish voice
of joy:

"Nothing could be better--I always did like doing mad things. It will be
the greatest fun! Think of their faces when I prance in and say I am
married! Then I will snap my fingers at them and go off and see the
world."

Michael knelt upon a low old _prie dieu_ which was near, and looked into
her face--while he asked, whimsically:

"I do wonder where you will begin."

Miss Delburg now sat upon the edge of the table; this was a grave
question and must be answered at leisure, though without indecision.

"Oh, I know," she announced. "There was my great friend, Moravia
Cloudwater, at the Convent. She was older than m