Then giving no more thought to Madame de Belle-Ile, who sat awaiting him eagerly, he returned gloomily to his hotel, reflecting on the carelessness which had delivered him into the hands of an indefatigable imp of mischief.

The upshot of his reflection was a resolve to press his wooing to an immediate conclusion.

The next day and the day after, therefore, he redoubled his lamentations that the smallness of his means prevented him from going, as his natural honesty dictated, straight to Claire's father, and asking for her hand, and protested that he dare not risk the loss of her, which would work irreparable havoc in his life.

It was only another step to suggest that, once they were married, her father's strong liking for him would soon bring about their forgiveness.

He pressed and pressed these points, pausing at times to declare the vastness of his affection for her, until at last, against her better judgment, and in spite of a lurking distrust of him, of which she could not rid herself, she yielded to his persistence and the overwhelming influence of his stronger personality, and consented to elope with him.
Two days later, as Tinker, Sir Tancred, and Lord Crosland were at dejeuner, Claire and Courtnay passed them on their way to the gardens.
"I shouldn't wonder if those two ran away together," said Lord Crosland; and his cheerful face fell gloomy.
"They have the air," said Sir Tancred coolly.
"Look here, you ought to interfere, don't you know?
You ought, really," said Lord Crosland, who had fallen under the fascination of Claire's fresh charm.
"Why don't _you_ ?" said Sir Tancred.
"Well," said Lord Crosland uncomfortably, "I did go to Sir Everard, and tell him to keep an eye on Courtnay; and he as good as told me to go to--Jericho." "Just like Bumpkin," said Sir Tancred contemptuously.