s I stood with my back to them, staring out into the yard below,
my eyes encountered a great, four-horsed travelling chariot, and as I
watched it, gloomily enough, the door was flung suddenly open, and ere
the waiting footman could let down the steps a lady leapt lightly out
and stood looking up at the windows. All at once she turned and gazed
straight up at me--then I saw that it was Pen. With a wave of her hand
she darted up the steps, and a moment later was in the room.

"Oh, I could wait no longer!" she cried, looking round with the tears in
her lovely eyes, "we have been wed but an hour, and I have sat there
praying 'twixt hope and fear, until methought I should go mad."

[Illustration: "Father," says she, "this is my husband--and I am proud
to tell you so." _Page 159._]

Here, catching sight of Tawnish with his wounded arm, she uttered a low
cry, and in a moment was kneeling beside him, kissing his uninjured hand,
and fondling it with a thousand endearing terms. And seeing the infinite
tenderness in his eyes and the love-light in her own, I was possessed of
a sudden, great content. In a while, remembering us, she looked up, and,
though her cheeks were red, her glance met ours freely and unashamed.

"Father," says she, "this is my husband--and I am proud to tell you so."

There was a moment's silence, and Jack's frown grew the blacker.

"Father," says she again, "I am not so simple but that I found out your
quarrel with Sir Harry, and knew that you came hither to-day to meet
your death--so--so I sought aid of this noble gentleman. Yet first I
begged of him to marry me, that if--if he had died to-day in your place,
I could have mourned him as a beloved husband. Can you forgive me,
father?"

As Pen ended, she rose and approached Jack with outstretched hands; for
a moment longer he hesitated--then he had her in his embrace.

"And you, Uncle Bentley," says she, looking at us from Jack's arms,
"and, Uncle Dick, dear, tender Uncle Dick, can you forgive your wilful
maid?"

"God knows, my dear, there's naught to forgive," says I, "save that you
are leaving us--"

"Nay, Sir Richard," cries Mr. Tawnish, "Uncle Bentley has seen to
that--"

"Uncle!" says Jack.

"Uncle!" says I.

"Can it be possible," says Mr. Tawnish, rising, "that you are still
unaware of the relationship?"

"Bentley," cries Jack, "explain."

"To be sure," says Bentley, in his heavy way, pointing to Mr. Tawnish,
"this is my sister's only ch