"Yes, if you wish it. I will have it repaired and refurnished
immediately, and, while the workmen are about it, we will be enjoying
our wedding-tour. For we must be married at once, Mollie," with a
comical look.
Mollie blushed and fidgeted, and laughed a little nervous laugh.
"This day fortnight will give you ample time for all the wedding
garniture," said the young man. "You hear, Mollie--a fortnight."
Mollie sighed resignedly, "Of course, you will play the tyrant, as usual,
and carry me off willy-nilly, if I don't consent. You must have
everything your own way, I suppose. And now--I'm dying to know--tell me,
who is Sarah Grant?"
"An eminently respectable young woman, and the wife of my
foster-brother. She and her husband would do anything under the
sun for me. The husband was the coachman who drove you when you were
abducted--who witnessed the marriage, and who is driving us now. Sarah's
a trump! Didn't she outwit Oleander nicely?"
"How? Oh, Hugh," clasping her hands, "I see it all--the resemblance just
puzzled me so. Sarah Grant was Susan Sharpe.
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