ut of his pain as quickly as
possible or something bad will happen. We must get my new father that is
to be on the spot to-night, and if you don't telegraph for him I shall
myself take the next train to Nortonbury, and tackle him on the subject.
I don't in the least mind which it is, but one or other must be done
directly."

"Antonia, you quite terrify me. Sir John will be seriously angry."

"What of that. Let him be angry."

"But I assure you, my dear, he is not a man to be trifled with."

"Oh, I'll manage him, mother, if you're nervous."

"I really think you must. I have not the courage to make or meddle in
this matter; in short, I wash my hands of it."

Antonia clapped hers.

"Hurrah!" she said. "I can manage much better all by myself. All I ask
you now, dear, good mother, is to trust me. Be sure that nothing
whatever will happen to injure you, and simply give me leave to say,
when I am telegraphing, that you would like to see Sir John."

"Well, naturally, I always like to see him, dear, devoted fellow."

"That's all right. Now you shall go back to your tea, and I'll be as
mum as a mouse for the rest of the day."

Mrs. Bernard Temple left the room, relieved at any sort of truce with
her troublesome daughter. Antonia addressed the telegraph form to ...
_Sir John Thornton, The Grange, Nortonbury_, and filled in the following
words:--

"Mother wants to see you without fail this evening. Take next
train. Important. Antonia. Reply paid."

The words went hard with the enthusiastic girl, for her precious eight
shillings were nearly exhausted, and she knew that she must deny herself
some sadly-needed cobalt if she sent that telegram.

"Never mind," she said, as she let herself out of the house, and rushed
off to the nearest post-office. "You must do without that background of
blue sky which I so wanted for your picture, Marie Antoinette. It is
odd, but I never did think that I would allow Art to suffer in the cause
of an ugly duckling."

Antonia sent off her telegram and watched anxiously for the reply. It
came in the course of an hour and a half, and was addressed to her
mother.

"Expect me by the train which reaches Waterloo at nine o'clock,"

wired the gallant Sir John.

"There, now, Antonia," said Mrs. Bernard Temple, "you have only yourself
to blame. What is to be done? We shall be at the theatre at nine
o'clock."

"Nothing could possibly be better, mother; I shan't go. I shall wait