ne, but he hasn't. If you
don't want to meet him to-night again, hadn't you better----"

"Oh! If she's gone, he'll be gone too by this time. Trust him!"

Mr. Prince approached them, urging Marguerite soothingly to stay as long
as she liked. She shook her head, and pressed his hand affectionately.

III

When George and Marguerite re-entered No. 8 by the front door, Mr. Haim
was still sitting overcome at the tea-table. They both had sight of him
through the open door of the parlour. Marguerite was obviously disturbed
to see him there, but she went straight into the room. George moved into
the darkness of his own room. He heard the voices of the other two.

"Then you mean to go?" Haim asked accusingly.

Marguerite answered in a calm, good-humoured, sweet tone:

"Of course, if you mean to marry Mrs. Lobley."

"Marry Mrs. Lobley! Of course I shall marry her!" Haim's voice rose.
"What right have you to settle where I shall marry and where I shan't?"

"I've fixed everything up with Celia Agg," said Marguerite very quietly.

"You've soon arranged it!"

No reply from Marguerite. The old man spoke again:

"You've no right--It'll be an open scandal."

Then a silence. George now thought impatiently that a great fuss was
being made about a trifle, and that a matter much more important
deserved attention. His ear caught a violent movement. The old man came
out of the parlour, and, instead of taking his hat and rushing off to
find the enchantress, he walked slowly and heavily upstairs, preceded by
his immense shadow thrown from the hall-lamp. He disappeared round the
corner of the stairs. George, under the influence of the apparition, was
forced to modify his view that all the fuss was over a trifle. He
tiptoed into the parlour. Marguerite was standing at the table. As soon
as George came in she began to gather the tea-things together on the
tray.

"I _say_!" whispered George.

Marguerite's bent, tranquil face had a pleasant look as she handled the
crockery.

"I shall get him a nice breakfast to-morrow," she said, also in a
whisper. "And as soon as he's gone to the office I shall pack. It won't
take me long, really."

"But won't Mrs. Lobley be here?"

"What if she is? I've nothing against Mrs. Lobley. Nor, as far as that
goes, against poor father either--you see what I mean."

"He told me you'd had a terrible scene. That's what he said'--a terrible
scene."

"It depends what you call a scene," she said smoo