dreadful scenes. Oh Anne, dear, they will rush you off. They will
never permit it."

"My aunt controls nothing but my property, and not the interest of
that. If she refuses her consent I shall simply walk up to Fig Tree
Church and marry Mr. Warner."

Miss Ogilvy recovered herself completely. "You will do nothing of the
sort," she cried, warm with friendship and the prospect of figuring in
the most sensational episode Nevis had known this many a year. "Come
to me. Be my guest until the banns have been properly published, and
marry from Ogilvy Grange. Everything must be _de rigueur_, or I should
never forgive myself. And it would give me the greatest happiness,
dear Anne. Mama and papa do everything I wish, and papa is one of Mr.
Warner's father's oldest friends. Mrs. Nunn will not consent. So
promise that you will come to me."

"I am very grateful. I had not thought much about Aunt Emily's
opposition, but no doubt she will turn me out of Bath House. You may
see me at the Grange to-night."

"Send one of the grooms with a note as soon as you have had the
inevitable scene. I only hope the result will be that I send the coach
for you to-day. I do hope you'll be happy. Why shouldn't you? Byam
Warner would not be the first man to settle down in matrimony. But
can you stand living your life on Nevis."

"I should have wished to live here had I never met Byam Warner."

"Oh--well--you are not to be pitied. I shall paint you while you are
at the Grange, all in white--only in a smarter gown--in this setting,
and with those blue butterflies circling about your head. You cannot
imagine what a picture you made. What a pity I frightened them away.
Now, mind you write me at once."

She kissed her radiant friend with a sigh, doubting that even conquest
of Lord Hunsdon would make herself look like a goddess, and rode on.

Anne went her way, even more slowly than before. She was in no haste
to face Mrs. Nunn, and she would re-live the morning hours before
other mere mortals scattered those precious images in her mind. Warner
had taken her up to his hut concealed in a hollow of the mountain and
surrounded on all sides by the jungle, then, while she sat on the one
chair the establishment boasted, he had cooked their breakfast, a
palatable mess of rice and plantains, and the best of coffee. They
had consumed it with great merriment under a banana tree, then washed
the dishes in a brook. Afterward he had shaken down several young
co