While the Duke and Duchess of Twyford and Lord and Lady Daniel exchanged congratulations all around, Lady Hillsborough looked on in disgust. "What I want to know," she said, when she could make herself heard once more, "is if I'm to be entirely done out of weddings, even after all my efforts to see you all in person's mouse-trap?"

"Oh, there are still two Flemings to go, so I wouldn't give up hope," returned her nephew, smiling down at her with transparent goodwill. "Apropos of which, has anyone seen the other two lately?"

No one had. When applied to, Millard imparted the information that Lord Byron had called for Miss Maribella just before two. They had departed in Lord Byron's carriage. Mr. Francis has dropped by for Miss Emma at closer to three. They had left in a hack.

"A hack?" queried Felix.

Millard merely nodded. Dismissed, he withdrew.

Felix was puzzled. "Where on earth could they have gone?"

As if in answer, voices were heard in the hall. But it was Maribella and Henry who had returned. Maribella danced in, her curls bouncing, her big eyes alight with happiness. Henry ambled in her wake, his grin suggesting that he suspected his good fortune was merely a dream and he would doubtless wake soon enough. Meanwhile, he was perfectly content with the way this particular dream was developing. Maribella flew to embrace Margaret and Sophia, then turned to the company at large and announced, "Guess what!"

A pregnant silence greeted her words, the Duke and his Duchess, the Lord And his Lady, all struck dumb by a sneaking suspicion. Almost unwillingly, Felix voiced it. "You're married already?"

Maribella's face fell a little. "How did you guess?" she demanded.

"No!" moaned Amelia. "Felix, see what happens when you leave town? I won't have it!"

But her words fell on deaf ears. Too blissfully happy themselves to deny their friends the same pleasures, the Duke and his Duchess were fully engaged in wishing the new Lady Byron and her Lord all manner of felicitations. And then, of course, there was their own news to hear, and that of the Hammingtons. The next ten minutes were filled with congratulations and good wishes.

Left much to herself, Lady Hillsborough sat in a corner of the chaise and watched the group with an indulgent eye. Truth to tell, she was not overly concerned with the absence of weddings. At her age, they constituted a definite trial. She smiled at the thought of the stories she would tell of the rapidity with which the three takes before her had rushed their brides to the altar. Between them, they had nearly forty years of experience in evading parson's mouse-trap, yet, when the right lady had looked on their horizon, they had found it expedient to wed her with all speed. She wondered whether that fact owed more to their frustrations or their experience.

Having assured by Maribella that Francis had indeed proposed and been accepted, the Duke and Duchess allowed themselves to be distracted by the question of the immediate housing arrangements. Eventually, it was decided that, in the circumstances, it was perfectly appropriate that Sophia should move into Hammington House. Margaret, of course, would henceforth be found at Delmere House. Relieved to find their ex-guardian so accommodating, Sophia and Maribella were about to leave to attend to their necessary packing, when the door to the drawing-room opened.

Francis and Emma entered.

It was Felix, his sharp eyes taking in the glow in Emma's face and the ridiculously proud look stamped across Francis's features, who correctly guessed their secret.

"Don't tell me!" He said, in a voice of long suffering. "You've got married, too?"

Needless to say, the Twyford House ball four days later was hardly flat. In fact, with four blushing brides, sternly watched over by their four handsome husbands, it was, as Felix had prophesied, one of the highlights of the Season.

FIN