Jack was thrilled by the information but wondered why it was so wrapped in mystery.  Not ten minutes had passed after the departure of the veiled lady when a messenger came with a note from Sir Benjamin Hare.  In a cordial tone, it invited Jack to breakfast at the Almack Club at twelve-thirty.  The young man returned his acceptance by the same messenger, and in his best morning suit went to meet Margaret.  A cab conveyed him to the corner named.  There was the coach with shades drawn low, waiting.  A footman stood near it.  The door was opened and he saw Margaret looking out at him and shaking her hand.

“You see what a sly thing I am!” she said when, the greetings over, he sat by her side and the coach was moving.  “A London girl knows how to get her way.  She is terribly wise, Jack.”

“But, tell me, who was the veiled lady?”

“A go-between.  She makes her living that way.  She is wise, discreet and reliable.  There is employment for many such in this wicked city.  I feel disgraced, Jack.  I hope you will not think that I am accustomed to dark and secret ways.  This has worried and distressed me, but I had to see you.”

“And I was longing for a look at you,” he said.

“I was sure you would not know how to pull these ropes of intrigue.  I have heard all about them.  I couldn’t help that, you know, and be a young lady who is quite alive.”

“Our time is short and I have much to say,” said Jack.  “I am to breakfast with your father at the Almack Club at twelve-thirty.”

She clapped her hands and said, with a laughing face, “I knew he would ask you!”

“Margaret, I want to take you to America with the approval of your father, if possible, and without it, if necessary.”

“I think you will get his approval,” said the girl with enthusiasm.  “He has heard all about the duel.  He says every one he met, of the court party, last evening, was speaking of it.  They agree that the old General needed that lesson.  Jack, how proud I am of you!”

She pressed his hand in both of hers.

“I couldn’t help knowing how to shoot,” he answered.  “And I would not be worthy to touch this fair hand of yours if I had failed to resent an insult.”

“Although he is a friend of the General, my father was pleased,” she went on.  “He calls you a good sport.  ’A young man of high spirit who is not to be played with,’ that is what he said.  Now, Jack, if you do not stick too hard on principles—­if you can yield, only a little, I am sure he will let us be married.”

“I am eager to hear what he may say now,” said Jack.  “Whatever it may be, let us stick together and go to America and be happy.  It would be a dark world without you.  May I see you to-morrow?”

“At the same hour and place,” she answered.

They talked of the home they would have in Philadelphia and planned its garden, Jack having told of the site he had bought with great trees and a river view.  They spent an hour which lent its abundant happiness to many a long year and when they parted, soon after twelve o’clock, Jack hurried away to keep his appointment.