he rushed at the window.

"But where are you going?" he cried, so rapidly that she hardly
understood him. "Why are you--why are we both--going away from London?
We must go _home_--to my house--to my wife."

"I am going to make a visit----"

"_Mais non, mais non, mais non_--come, there is a train going to
London--hurry, we will go back. You will telegraph your friends. This
evening--the betrothal evening, you must spend with us. Come, hurry, or
we shall be too late."

"But I cannot, it is impossible," she protested weakly, as, he took her
dressing-case and umbrella from the seat, after scrambling into his
furry coat. "My friend is expecting me!"

"Ta, ta, ta, ta, ta! Come, _ma fille, bella signorina_, the train is
just there--I will telegraph your friend. Let me help you, _comme ça, ça
y est_!"

And almost before she knew what had happened, they were in the other
train speeding back to town.

"Théo is at home--he went to tell his mother," Joyselle said, nearly
braining an old lady with his violin-case as he swung round to speak.
"And they will be sitting by the fire, and I--who was going to spend the
night at the Duke of Cumberland's--will appear, and after we have
embraced, hey, presto--I produce you--Diana--his _adorée_--my daughter."