In a postscript to the letter, which was much longer than the letter itself, Frances told me how she and George had been married immediately on landing in France, and were living very happily in Paris, where they would remain until George should take up the government of Dunkirk.
So it had all fallen out just as one might have expected to find it in a story-book.

George had been proved by Fortune's touchstone, and her Ladyship had chosen him for her smile.

He had won the long odds.
What remains to be told is simply the denouement of my own affairs.
* * * * * At the time of my transaction with Wentworth I said nothing to Bettina about the sale of my title and estates, but when I heard that our friends were safe and happy in France, I went down to the Old Swan, with more fear than I should have thought possible, to broach a certain matter, which was very near my heart, to Betty and her father.
I knew that in so far as Betty herself was concerned, I should find no trouble, but I also knew that I might find difficulty in persuading her to leave her father, for duty was a tremendous word in Betty's vocabulary.
When I reached the Old Swan, policy and fear each told me that it would be safer to attack Betty and her father separately.

The odds of two against one, in this case, I feared would be too great for me to overcome.

So I led Betty to her parlor,--rather she led me,--and after a preliminary skirmish, I told her I had come to see her on a most important piece of business.
"I'm glad to see you, whatever brings you, Baron Ned," she answered, smoothing out her skirts in anticipation of an interesting budget of news.
"But I'm no longer 'Baron Ned,' Betty," I informed her.
She asked a hundred questions with her eyes and eyebrows, and I hastily answered them by telling of the sale to Wentworth.
"Ah, I'm so sorry," she answered, "and I'm so glad, too, that I could cry.