"Damn!" she said, hobbling across the room to the corner, whither her

shoe had fallen. "There, there, old lady; don't hold your hands to your

ears as though a clean oath would poison them!"

The Princess-mother fell back in her chair.

"Does she speak to me?" she asked helplessly.

"Yes," said Wogan; and turning to Jenny, "This is the kind-hearted

aunt."

Jenny turned to Clementina, who was picking the cloak from the floor.

"And you are the beautiful heiress," she said sourly. "Well, if you are

going to put that wet cloak on your shoulders, I wish you joy of the

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first kiss O'Toole gives you when you jump into his arms."

The Princess-mother screamed; Wogan hastened to interfere.

"Jenny, there's the bedroom; to bed with you!" and he took out his

watch. At once he uttered an exclamation of affright. Wogan had

miscalculated the time which he would require. It had taken longer than

he had anticipated to reach the villa against the storm; his conflict

with Jenny in the portico had consumed valuable minutes; he had been at

some pains to over-persuade the Princess-mother; Jenny herself amongst

the trees in the darkness had waited more than the quarter of an hour

demanded of her; Wogan himself, absorbed each moment in that moment's

particular business,--now bending all his wits to vanquish Jenny, now to

vanquish the Princess-mother,--even Wogan had neglected how the time

sped. He looked at his watch. It was twenty-five minutes to ten, and at

ten the magistrate would be knocking at the door.

"I am ready," said Clementina, drawing the wet cloak about her shoulders

and its hood over her head. She barely shivered under its wet heaviness.

"There's one more thing to be done before you go," said Wogan; but

before he could say what that one thing was, Jenny, who had now

recovered her shoe, ran across the room and took the beautiful heiress

by both hands. Jenny was impulsive by nature. The Princess-mother's

distress and Clementina's fearlessness made her suddenly ashamed that

she had spoken so sourly.

"There, there, old lady," she said soothingly; "don't you fret. They are

very good friends your niece is going with." Then she drew Clementina

close to her. "I don't wonder they are all mad about you, for I can't

but say you are very handsome and richly worth the pains you have

occasioned us." She kissed Clementina plump upon the cheek and

whispered in her ear, "O'Toole won't mind the wet cloak, my dear, when

he sees you."




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