the runaways; but the escapade had been much too cunningly planned to
fail in execution. Before Sir John set eyes on his daughter again--now
becomingly penitent--she had blossomed into the Baroness Compton, wife
of the last man her father would have desired to call his son-in-law.

To "Rich Spencer" the blow was crushing, humiliating. It was bad enough
to be defied and outwitted, to be made a fool of by his own daughter;
but to know that the treasure he had lost had fallen into such
undesirable hands was bitter beyond words. His home and his heart were
alike desolate; and, in his despair and wrath, he vowed that he would
never own his daughter as his child, and that not one penny of his
should ever go into the Compton coffers.

In this mood of sullen, unforgiving anger Sir John remained for a full
year; when to his surprise and delight he received a summons to attend,
at Whitehall, on the Queen, whose graciousness during his mayoralty he
remembered with pleasure and gratitude; and no man in England was
prouder or more pleased than he when, at the time appointed, he made his
bow to his Sovereign-Lady and kissed her hand.

"I have summoned you, Sir John," Her Majesty said, "to ask a great
favour of you. I do not often stoop, as you know, to beg a favour of
any man; nor should I now, did I not know that I have no more dutiful
subject than yourself, and that to ask of you is to receive. I am
interested in two young people who have had the misfortune to marry
against the wishes of the lady's father, and who have thus forfeited his
favour. And I wish you to give me and the youthful couple pleasure by
taking his place and standing sponsor to their first child."

To such a request made by his Sovereign Sir John could but give a