Come and smoke a cigar in the greenhouse.

Hang all visitors--they worry one's life out.

I'll appear at the last moment with an apology; and you shall follow me at a safe distance, and be a proof that I was really engaged." Proposing this ingenious stratagem in a confidential whisper, Mr.
Vanstone took Frank's arm and led him round the house by the back way.
The first ten minutes of seclusion in the conservatory passed without events of any kind.

At the end of that time, a flying figure in bright garments flashed upon the two gentlemen through the glass--the door was flung open--flower-pots fell in homage to passing petticoats--and Mr.
Vanstone's youngest daughter ran up to him at headlong speed, with every external appearance of having suddenly taken leave of her senses.
"Papa! the dream of my whole life is realized," she said, as soon as she could speak.

"I shall fly through the roof of the greenhouse if somebody doesn't hold me down.