Anthony Hope

“ John’s arm was advancing towards Dora’s waist. Sir Roger looked on with apparent impatience.
“Are you never going?” he called. “Must I——”
Suddenly a loud cry rang out. It came from Miss Bellairs.
“Oh, Charlie, save me, save me!” she cried, and then and there flung herself into his arms.
“My darling!” he whispered loudly, and catching her up made for the window. As they disappeared through it, Deane softly and swiftly opened the door and disappeared in his turn. Mary and John were left alone. Then Mary’s composure gave way. Sinking into a chair she cried:
“And I am left! Nobody cares for me. ”

“ Excuse me,” and he lifted Lady Deane in his stalwart arms and bore her toward the window.
With a distant reminiscence of the ball-room, Arthur Laing approached Miss Bussey, murmuring “May I have the—” and with a mighty effort swung the good lady from the ground. She clutched his cravat wildly, crying “Save me!”
Mary Travers was calmness itself. With quiet mien and unfaltering voice, she laid her hand on Charlie’s arm and murmured:
“I am ready, Charlie.”
At the same moment John Ashforth, the light of heroism in his eye, whispered to Dora, “You must trust yourself implicitly to me.” ”

“ She concludes—if it be permissible thus far to anticipate the publication of her book—that all True Love is absolutely permanent and indestructible, untried by circumstance and untouched by time; and this opinion is, she says, indorsed by every woman who has ever been in love. ”