"Maude has a level head," was Aunt Ella's comment. "I'll go and have a talk with Linda. If she will write your father in the Captain's behalf, I think things will come out all right."

Linda was not only willing to a.s.sure the Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer that Capt. Hornaby belonged to an old and honourable family, but also that he did not seek his daughter's hand because her father was a wealthy man, for the Hornaby estate was a large one, and the rentals sufficient to allow the Captain an adequate income, although there were other brothers to share the patrimony.

The Hon. Nathaniel deliberated before answering. Florence had always been a dutiful daughter and the fact that she would not become engaged without his consent was an acknowledgment of his parental influence which was vastly pleasing to his vanity. He had been tricked into accepting Alice as his son's wife, and he knew that Maude, when she made up her mind to marry would be guided little, if any, by his advice.

Filial love and respect deserved their reward.

He wrote the Countess giving his consent to the marriage, and, what was most important, declared his intention of allowing Mrs. Captain Hornaby an income of fifteen thousand dollars annually, and a liberal provision at his death. He was very sorry, but pressing legal duties would prevent his attendance at the wedding if it took place in England.

The Countess insisted upon the wedding taking place at Ellersleigh. She had obtained the, otherwise, obdurate father's consent, and demanded compensation for her services.

So many weddings have been described that novelty in that line is impossible. Sufficient to say that the Countess fulfilled expectations and more, and the event was the year's sensation in Suss.e.x, the echoes of which reached imperial London, and far off democratic America.

The Lady Elfrida Hastings was present at the wedding. She congratulated the Captain and his bride, but took occasion to say to the latter,--

"My dear, don't sing those sentimental American songs any more. That night you looked so _triste_ I was afraid the present delightful affair would never become a reality."

Florence did not confess that, on the evening in question, she had misgivings herself.

CHAPTER XV

AN ELOPEMENT

The Hon. Nathaniel Adams Sawyer sat in his library reading a ponderous legal doc.u.ment. It was full of knotty points requiring deep thinking, and the Hon. Nathaniel was breathing deeply and thinking deeply when the door was opened quietly and a young girl looked in. She stood for a moment regarding the reader.

"Father, are you very busy?"

The man finished reading the page before noticing the speaker.

"I am always busy, Maude, except when asleep, and I sometimes think my subliminal consciousness is active then."

Maude's inclination was to say "Oh, my!" but she repressed the e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.

"I can give you a few minutes, Maude, if the subject is an important one. Come in."

Maude entered, seated herself, folded her hands in her lap and regarded her father as a disobedient pupil would a teacher.

"Father--"

The Hon. Nathaniel was listening attentively.

"Father--"

"Repet.i.tion is effective if not indulged in to excess. I often use it in my arguments before juries."

Maude flushed. She was particularly sensitive to sarcasm, but could stand any amount of good-natured raillery.

"Father, I'm going to be married."

The Hon. Nathaniel readjusted his gla.s.ses and regarded the speaker.

"It must be a clandestine attachment. I am not aware of meeting any gentleman who declared any desire to make you his wife. At whose house have you met your intended? I have no reason to suspect your Aunt Ella owing to her absence in Europe."

"I've never been to anybody's house. I've walked with him on the Common and in the Public Garden."

"Ah, two parks frequented by the elite of the city."

Maude resented his last remark. "Just as good people as I am go there."

"Do you mean that you are no better than those who go there?"

His voice was stern. Maude saw that she had made a mistake. "Some of them," she said in a low voice.

"Who is the favoured gentleman? Have I the honour of his acquaintance?"

"Why, yes, you've met him. It's Harry, I mean Mr. Merry."

"The young man who was Quincy's private secretary. Quincy wished me to take him into my office, but he never appeared in person."

"He's with Mr. Curtis Carter on Tremont Street. Mr. Carter was one of Quincy's most intimate friends."

"And Mr. Merry preferred going to one of Quincy's friends, than to me, and criminal cases rather than civil procedure. Mr. Carter revels in murder trials. But why has this young man failed to consult me on a matter so greatly affecting your future? Why have you a.s.sumed the initiative? This is not leap year."

Maude was ready to cry, but she choked down her rising temper.

"I think he's afraid to."

"What has he done that he should fear me?"

Maude made another mistake. "He never borrowed any money of you."

The Hon. Nathaniel disliked any reference to that raised check. "If he marries you, perhaps he will find it difficult to support you without borrowing money--but I shall not loan him any."

"He says he can support me as well as I wish, and I am going to marry him."

This was flat-footed defiance, and the Hon. Nathaniel grew red in the face at being thus bearded in his den.

"Maude, I am astonished. I command you not to meet this young man again unless in my presence or that of your mother. When I meet him, I shall have something to say to him."

He resumed the reading of the doc.u.ment, and Maude, knowing that it was useless to say more, left the room.

The next day at noon, Maude told her mother she was going to make some purchases on Winter Street. As no objection was made, Maude felt sure that her father had not mentioned their conversation to her mother.

She met Harry and they walked down the "Long Path" on the Common, made famous by the genial "Autocrat," not only of one breakfast table, but of thousands of others.

"He will never consent," said Maude.