er. He is not."

"My dear miss," said I--I was almost on the point of calling her
Angelica--"I knew that. I know that he is something nearer and dearer
than even a brother."

She blushed. "Yes," said she, "you are right, and we are in great
trouble."

"Oh, what is it? Tell me quick. What can I do to help you?"

"My father is very angry," said she, "and has forbidden me ever to see
him again, and he is going to take me home to-morrow. But we have
agreed to fly together to-day. It is our only chance, but he is not
here. Oh, dear! I do not know what I shall do."

"Where are you going to fly to?" said I.

"We want to take the Edinburgh train this evening if there is one," she
said, "and we get off at Carlisle, and from there it is only a little
way to Gretna Green."

"Gretna Green!" I cried. "Oh, I will help you! I will help you! Why
isn't the gentleman here, and where has he gone?"

"He has gone to see about the trains," she said, almost crying, "and I
don't see what keeps him. I could not get away until father went into
his room to dress for dinner, and as soon as he is ready he will call
for me. Where can he be? I have sent my man to look for him."

"Oh, I'll go look for him! You wait here," I cried, forgetting that
she would have to, and away I went.

As I was hurrying out of the gates of the gardens I looked in the
direction of the railroad station, and there I saw Pomeroy pulled by
one bath-chair man and the other one talking to him. In twenty bounds I
reached him. "Go back for your young lady," I cried to Robertson,
Angelica's man, "and bring her here on the run. She sent me for you."
Away went Robertson, and then I said to the astonished Pomeroy, "Sir,
there is no time for explanations. Your lady-love will be with you in a
minute. My husband and I are going to Edinburgh to-morrow, and I have
looked up all the trains. There is one which leaves here at twenty
minutes past six. If she comes soon you will have time to catch it.
Have you your baggage ready?"

He looked at me as if he wondered who on earth I was, but I am sure he
saw my soul in my face and trusted me.

"Yes," he said, "she has a little bag in her bath-chair, and mine is
here."

"Here she comes," said I, "and you must fly to the station."

In a moment Angelica was with us, her face beaming with delight.

"Oh, thank you, thank you!" she cried, but I would not listen to her
gratitude. "Hurry!" I said, "or you will be too late. Joy go with