The next morning brother and sister took the early train for New York.  On the morning of the second day they took the express train for Baltimore, where they stopped for another night.  And on the morning of the third day they took the early train for North End, where they arrived at sunset.  They went to the hotel to get dinner and to engage the one hack of the establishment to take them to Rockhold.

Almost the first man they met on the hotel porch was Mr. Clarence, who rushed to meet them.

“Hurrah, Sylvan!  Hurrah, old boy!  Back again!  Why didn’t you write or telegraph?  How do you do, Cora!  Ah! when will you get your roses back, my dear?  And how is his Majesty?  Why is he not with you?  Where did you leave him?” demanded Mr. Clarence in a gale of high spirits at greeting his nephew and niece again.

“He is among the Thousand Islands somewhere with his bride,” answered Cora.

“His—­what?” inquired Mr. Clarence, with a puzzled air.

“His wife,” said Cora.

“His wife?  What on earth are you talking about, Cora?  You could not have understood my question.  I asked you where my father was!” said the bewildered Mr. Clarence.

“And I told you that he is on his wedding trip with his bride, among the Thousand Islands,” replied Cora.

Mr. Clarence turned in a helpless manner.

“Sylvan,” he said, “tell me what she means, will you?”

“Why, just what she says.  Our grandfather and grandmother are on the St. Lawrence, but will be home on the first of July,” Sylvan explained.

But Mr. Clarence looked from the brother to the sister and back again in the utmost perplexity.

“What sort of a stupid joke are you two trying to get off?” he inquired.

They had by this time reached the public parlor of the hotel and found seats.

“Is it possible, Uncle Clarence, that you do not know Mr. Rockharrt was married on the thirty-first of last month, in New York, to Mrs. Stillwater?” inquired Cora.

“What!  My father!”

“Why should you be amazed or incredulous, Uncle Clarence?  The incomprehensible feature, to my mind, is that you should not have heard of the affair directly from grandfather himself.  Has he really not written and told you of his marriage?”

“He has never told me a word of his marriage, though he has written a dozen or more letters to me within the last few weeks.”

“That is very extraordinary.  And did you not hear any rumor of it?  Did no one chance to see the notice of it in the papers?”

“No one that I know of.  No; I heard no hint of my father’s marriage from any quarter, nor had I, nor any one else at Rockhold or at North End, the slightest suspicion of such a thing.”

“That is very strange.  It must have been in the papers,” said Sylvan.

“If it was I did not see it, but, then, I never think of looking at the marriage list.”