e of one
more victim on the all-devouring altar of Marriage! So Sir Joseph and
his sister provided Launcelot Linzie with the one argument which he
wanted to convince Natalie: "Choose between making the misery of
your life by marrying _him_, and making the happiness of your life by
marrying _me._"

"When shall I see her?" asked Turlington, with Miss Lavinia (in tears
which did _her_ credit) in possession of one of his hands, and Sir
Joseph (in tears which did _him_ credit) in possession of the other.

"She will be back to dinner, dear Richard. Stay and dine."

"Thank you. I must go into the City first. I will come back and dine."

With that arrangement in prospect, he left them.

An hour later a telegram arrived from Natalie. She had consented to
dine, as well as lunch, in Berkeley Square--sleeping there that night,
and returning the next morning. Her father instantly telegraphed back
by the messenger, insisting on Natalie's return to Muswell Hill that
evening, in time to meet Richard Turlington at dinner.

"Quite right. Joseph," said Miss Lavinia, looking over her brother's
shoulder, while he wrote the telegram.

"She is showing a disposition to coquet with Richard," rejoined Sir
Joseph, with the air of a man who knew female human nature in its
remotest corners. "My telegram, Lavinia, will have its effect."

Sir Joseph was quite right. His telegram _had_ its effect. It not only
brought his daughter back to dinner--it produced another result which
his prophetic faculty had altogether failed to foresee.

The message reached Berkeley Square at five o'clock in the afternoon.
Let us follow the message.

FIFTH SCENE.

The Square.

Between four and five in the afternoon--when the women of the Western
regions are in their carriages, and the men are at their clubs--London
presents few places more conveniently adapted for purposes of private
talk than the solitary garden inclosure of a square.

On the day when Richard Turlington paid his visit to Muswell Hill, two
ladies (with a secret between them) unlocked the gate of the railed
garden in Berkeley Square. They shut the gate after entering the
inclosure, but carefully forbore to lock it as well, and carefully
restricted their walk to the westward side of the garden. One of them
was Natalie Graybrooke. The other was Mrs. Sancroft's eldest daughter.
A certain temporary interest attached, in the estimation of society,
to this young lady. She had sold well in t