The elderly gentleman went upstairs for a moment, came down again, and drove away.
"The house has been sold, I suppose," said Salemina; "and for my part I envy the new owner his bargain.

He is close to Piccadilly, has that bit of side lawn with the superb oak-tree, and the duke's beautiful gardens so near that they will seem virtually his own when he looks from his upper windows." At tea-time the same elderly gentleman drove up in a victoria, with a very pretty young lady.
"The plot thickens," said Francesca, who was nearest the window.

"Do you suppose she is his bride-elect, and is he showing her their future home, or is she already his wife?
If so, I fear me she married him for his title and estates, for he is more than a shade too old for her." "Don't be censorious, child," I remonstrated, taking my cup idly across the room, to be nearer the scene of action.

"Oh, dear! there is a slight discrepancy, I confess, but I can explain it.

This is how it happened: The girl had never really loved, and did not know what the feeling was.
She did know that the aged suitor was a good and worthy man, and her mother and nine small brothers and sisters (very much out at the toes) urged the marriage.