u. It will probably
not be long now before we get it."

Lady Jane left the room, and Rosamund rebolted the door. Then she sat
down to enjoy her lunch. She had just eaten a mouthful of the cutlet
when she was aroused by a whoop--that familiar whoop which Irene had
given vent to under poor Jane Denton's bed the previous night. Rosamund
turned round, and there was Irene's face pressed against the
window-pane. She had run up a ladder which she had forced one of the
gardeners to bring to the window, and was looking in. Her face was all
wreathed in smiles. She beckoned to Rosamund, who refused, however, to
pay the slightest attention to her. Fortunately the window was shut,
and Rosamund did not suppose that the naughty girl would go to the
extreme of breaking the glass.

She now deliberately turned her back upon Irene, and continued to eat
her cutlets without taking the least notice of her. In vain did Irene
whoop and call out, and sing and shout, all for Rosamund's benefit. At
last she said in a threatening tone, loud enough to pierce through the
shut window, "I will run down the ladder and fetch a hammer, and come up
again and break the window, and get in that way if you don't let me in.
You don't suppose I am going to be conquered in my own house?"

But Rosamund was even with her. In one minute she had gone to the
window, had flung it wide open, and taken both Irene's hands.

"Irene," she said, "you told me you loved me."

There was something in the tones, something in the absence of fear,
which caused Irene to pause; the color faded from her little face,
leaving it very white and almost imploring.

"I do--I do!" she said after a minute's pause.

"Now, do you know what I have done? I have left Sunnyside and have come
over here, and am just waiting for a telegram from mother giving her
consent to my spending a great portion of my time with you. But if you
go for the hammer and come back and break this window I shall go
straight home to mother, whatever she says. Now, you can choose. Go away
now, and behave yourself. It doesn't matter to me what you do. I
sometimes think you are not worth saving."

"Oh, no, I am not," said Irene in a completely new tone. She went
quietly down the ladder. The objectionable ladder itself was removed,
and Rosamund continued her lunch in peace.

Half an hour afterwards the telegram arrived, which was quite cordial in
its tone, giving a hearty consent to Rosamund's remaining for the
pr