"I thought you were going to catch it. Oh, here's the ladder. Do you
think I'll fall? Oh, oh!"

"Don't be afraid. Climb out, dear--and hurry!"

She was brave enough in the crisis. While he held the bottom of the
ladder she scrambled through the window and hurried downward. Before
she reached the bottom he lifted her from the ladder in his strong
arms and held her close for a moment.

"Take the ladder down, dearest," she whispered between kisses. "I
don't want mother to know I left that way--not just yet,--nor Mr.
Windomshire, either."

"Come this way," he whispered, after replacing the ladder. "I left the
car just around the corner. Come on, darling, and we'll soon be safe.
Don't make a noise!"

"Goodness, isn't it dark! What a horrid night! Oh, what's that?"

"Gad, I thought I heard something over there in the croquet ground.
Sounded like some one mixing it up with a wicket. Quick! Out this
way!" He had her hand in his, and was rushing ruthlessly through
flower-beds toward the big gate, her travelling bag banging against
his knee with the insistence of a hundredweight.

Panting and gasping for breath, they finally floundered into the
roadway, and dashed off through the muddy surface toward the unseen
automobile.