Fallen Fortunes Read online

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  *CHAPTER XIX.*

  *LOVE'S TRIUMPHING.*

  "Mother, I cannot. I have tried--in all truth, I have. But it is allof no avail. I cannot love Lord Sandford. I cannot be his wife."

  "You could be his wife very well, if you chose obstinate girl; and asfor loving him--poof!--love matters little when there is wealth andtitle, broad lands, and all that heart can desire into the bargain. Youput me out of all patience with your mincing ways and disdainful airs.What more do you want than Lord Sandford offers? Does a countess'scoronet not satisfy you? Do you desire to be a duchess, and takeprecedence of your own mother?"

  And Lady Romaine brought her ivory fan down upon her daughter's shoulderwith a tap that was almost like a blow. Tears of vexation anddisappointment stood in her eyes. In her hand held an open letter,across the bottom of which the word "Sandford" could be easily read,traced in a large and firm hand.

  Before Geraldine had found words in which to reply, Lady Romaine hadburst out again more petulantly than ever.

  "To think of all the trouble I have been at with you! Do you think Iwant a great lumbering girl, looking ten years older than her years, andwith all the affectations of a Quaker--horrid people!--in her gait anddress and speech, for ever in my train? Do you think it is pleasant forme to hear men laughing at your prim ways and silly scruples, andwondering where you learned them? Do you know what they call you behindyour back? 'Mistress "No, I thank you, sir."' Faugh! it makes me sick.Who are you, to hold up your opinions against the whole world? It makesme blush with shame and anger. And then, when I have gotten you asuitor in one of the best known nobles of the gay town, and reckon tohave you off my hands and in the keeping of a husband who will know howto deal with your airs and graces, you must needs turn stubborn as amule, and refuse his offer. Lard! it makes me sick to think I shouldhave such a daughter."

  "I am very sorry that you are vexed, mother," answered Geraldinequietly, "but my father does not seem greatly to desire the match withmy Lord Sandford. He did speak of it to me awhile back, but of late Ihave heard nothing anent the matter from him."

  "Tush, girl! your father is no judge in such matters. He is wrapped upin politics, and has no thought to spare for other things more close athome. And because, forsooth, Lord Sandford finds the Court too dull forhim, and is seen there but seldom, your father must needs think lightlyof him. As though half the gayest and most fashionable of the youngernobility did not eschew the deadly dullness of the Queen'spresence-chamber! Why, I should die of boredom in a week had I to danceattendance on her Majesty. Lord Sandford shows his good sense by stayingaway. Oh to hear the tales some of them tell! Saints preserve me fromthe like!"

  Geraldine answered no word. She hoped that the had now blown itselfout. Not to her mother could she speak of those tender, wonderful,beautiful thoughts and hopes and feelings which had lately come into herlife. In her heart of hearts she knew herself beloved of GreyDumaresq--knew that it would not be long ere he declared himself. Shehad heard also rumours of what the world was saying about him--that hisname was becoming known to all men, and that he was regarded as one whowould rise to eminence and prosperity. But it was not for these thingsthat she loved him. Her heart had been his long before--almost beforeshe knew it herself--in the days of his poverty and obscurity, when shedreamed of him, rather than thought consciously, wondering whither hehad gone, and what he was doing, and whether he was holding fast to theresolutions he had made. She knew how her heart had leaped at sight ofhim in the guise of the Youth--how he had flown to her rescue before allothers when peril menaced her. Then her eyes had been opened to thelove which had sprung up all unknown in her heart; but she had lost himonce more, only to find him again in the unknown champion who had riskedhis life, without knowing for whom he did it, in the dark streets ofLondon some few weeks back now. Since then she had seen him but once,and their words had been few, but their eyes had spoken more eloquentlythan their lips, and she knew that she had only to possess her soul inpatience, and that all would be well. The Duke and the Duchess were herfriends: that would be enough, and more than enough, for her father. Asfor Lady Romaine, she had always been the warm advocate of LordSandford's suit, and being ignorant of what was passing elsewhere,jealous of her daughter's friendship with the Duchess, wrapped up in herown trivial round of vanity and pleasure, imagined that the only way ofgetting rid of the incubus of this grave and stately daughter was bymarrying her off-hand to the only suitor whom the girl had evertolerated for a moment. Therefore this absolute refusal on Geraldine'spart, and the indifference of Lord Romaine, who had merely told her hewould not have the girl forced to any such step against her will, awokein her a chagrin and vexation which were hard to bear, and which ventedthemselves in positive tears of passion and pain.

  "Then you shall give the man his dismissal yourself, you minx, youobstinate hussy!" cried the enraged lady at last, flinging down theletter upon the table. "He says he will come to hear his fate to-morrowevening, and I vow I will have no hand in the telling of the tale ofyour shilly-shally and folly. Here have you been leading him on allthese months--"

  "Mother, that is not true," spoke Geraldine, rising to her feet andflashing one of her strange, earnest glances full upon her mother'sface; "I did never lead him on. I did never encourage him. I did butobey your strict injunctions to speak with him, to make hisacquaintance, to try if so be that I might learn to return the affectionwith which he professed to honour me."

  "And was that not enough to encourage him, in one who played the prudeor the vixen so well in other quarters?" fumed Lady Romaine. "That you,who chose to send away every other man who addressed compliments to youwith a flea in his ear--that you should suffer him to attend upon you,and seem to take pleasure in his converse--was not that enough? Whymake yourself the talk of the town with him, to send him away now?"

  The injustice of this accusation caused the girl's cheek to flame; butshe retained her self-control, and answered gently: "Methinks you arehard to please, mother; for whether I send men away or listen to themawhile, I am always in the wrong. I did but do your bidding in thematter of Lord Sandford, and I do not deny that I found him ofttimes aninteresting talker, and that for a while I was willing to regard him asa friend. But then, as I came to know more and to hear more, my opinionwas forced to change. I fear me that Lord Sandford himself did change,and for the worse. Nevertheless, I would not judge him; only this Isay--that I cannot and I will not marry him."

  "Then go your own way and die a spinster, soured with your own tempersand megrims!" cried Lady Romaine in a towering passion, as she sweptfrom the room, her high heels clattering on the polished floor, herdraperies making an angry hissing, like that of a snake disturbed. "Iwash my hands of you from this time forth. Give Lord Sandford hisdismissal yourself, and lose me one of my best and most useful friends.That is always the way with daughters. Young vipers they should becalled!" And having now reached the door, Lady Romaine passed out andbanged it hard behind her, as a further mark of her displeasure.

  Geraldine, left alone, took up the letter and read it. It contained adefinite proposal for her hand, was written to her mother (always LordSandford's friend and ally in this), and asked leave for the writer topresent himself upon the following evening to learn his fate. The girlraised her eyes with a start, for it was upon the following day that theDuke and Duchess had invited themselves to dine with Lord and LadyRomaine, and to bring with them a guest whom they desired to presentafresh to their hosts. Lady Romaine had shrugged her shoulders andprofessed to be bored at the prospect, though in reality somewhatgratified at the idea of entertaining such illustrious guests. Her lordhad been undisguisedly gratified, and believing the invitation in somesort due to his daughter, had regarded her with increased favour. But asGeraldine revolved the situation, it seemed to her a strange and ratherdangerous complication that Lord Sandford should appear upon that verynight; for was it not said that he and Sir
Grey Dumaresq had quarrelledbitterly, and that the former had even sought to compass the life of hisfriend?

  Geraldine went to seek her father, but he was not to be found. Hermother refused her entrance into her rooms, and the girl was forced toawait the result of the following evening without communicating hervague fears to any one. After all, who would be likely to heed them,and what could she say? It was only the vaguest rumours she had heard;the rest was but her own intuitions, which others would never consider.

  "Sir Grey Dumaresq, let me present you to my daughter, Lady GeraldineAdair, whom you will perhaps lead to the dinner-table when the timecomes."

  So spoke Lord Romaine, his face beaming with gratification and pleasure.The Duke and Duchess had arrived, the last of the select company invitedfor that day, and the Duke had held a short, low-toned conversation withhis host, which had brought many gratified smiles to the face of hisinterlocutor. Now Geraldine's hand was within that of the young baronet,and her voice trembled a little as she said to her father,--

  "Sir Grey and I have met before."

  "Ah yes; I believe that is so. But Sir Grey's appearance was somethingtoo brief and meteor-like that last time. Now I hope he comes as afixed star to shine steadily in the sky. If all we hear be true, hisbrilliance will add a lustre to the times in which he lives."

  "You do me too much honour, sir," answered Grey a bow; but there was notime for more, for the company was already moving, and Geraldine's handwas upon his arm, and the delicate fragrance which seemed always tocling about her brought a strange intoxication to his senses, which madespeech at the first difficult to him.

  Perhaps she shared this feeling, for she was silent too; but thedelicate flush upon her face, and the soft shining of her eyes, enhancedher beauty to an extent which made many marvel that they had notobserved it before. Now and again the eyes of the undeclared lovers metin a quick, eloquent glance; but for a while they did not directlyaddress one another, for the table was silent, listening to the words ofthe Duke, who was addressing his host, and discussing with him somematter of general interest. It was only later on, when the hum of talkbecame more dispersed, that Geraldine was able to say in a low voice,--

  "I have heard of the success of your book. It has made my heart gladand happy. I did read some or it ere it went to the Queen. I thoughtit more beautiful than I can say."

  "It should be beautiful, in all sooth, fair lady," answered Grey in avery low voice, "for the thought of it was inspired by the looks andwords of one who is of all living creatures the fairest, the purest, themost precious. If my poor work meets with success in the world, it willbe due not to any skill of mine, but to the goodness of two graciousladies, one who inspired and the other who approved its motive."

  Geraldine's face burned; there was a great joy in her heart. She couldnot misunderstand the look he bent upon her. Could it indeed be truethat she had had any part or lot in this matter? The thought wasbewildering, unspeakable. She sat as one in a dream. She heard himtell softly the tale of those strange events which had brought himunexpected wealth and prosperity. She realized that the time of trialand poverty and struggle was over, and that the sun of success wasshining in his sky, and her heart was glad within her. Yet she rejoicedto think that he had faced privation and poverty bravely, and had soughtby no unworthy way to mend his broken fortunes. She had trusted him andloved him in the hour of darkness: she was not ashamed to admit it now;she was proud and glad that it had been so.

  Later on in the evening they found themselves together and alone in thelittle room at the far end of the reception suite, where they could talkundisturbed and unheard. It was sweet with the scent of violets, andthe soft light of the wax candles in silver sconces illumined it onlydimly. He closed the door, and let the curtain fall across it, and thenhe held out his uninjured hand to her. The broken arm, though mendingfast, was still in a sling.

  "Geraldine! my beloved!"

  She went straight to him then, like a bird to its nest. Noprotestations were needed between them. They loved each other, and theyknew it.

  How long they had been alone, they did not know--time flies so quicklyat times like these. It seemed but a few minutes to them, though itmight well have been an hour, when the handle of the door was turned,and the curtain drawn back. Geraldine uttered a little cry of startledamaze. It was Lord Sandford who hail entered, and she had forgotten hisvery existence!

  Had her mother, in one of her spiteful moods, told him that he wouldfind her here? It was not impossible; and the girl's face grew a littlewhite, for Lord Sandford's rapier dangled at his side, as was indeed thefashion of the times, and he was a man upon whose hot passions nobodycould absolutely reckon. Strange stories had been told of him beforethis.

  The young Earl stood for a moment framed in the doorway, his powerfulface set in lines the meaning of which it were hard to read aright.Grey had risen and stood close to Geraldine, his eyes fixed vigilantlyupon the massive figure of the man who had once been his friend. To thegirl it seemed as though their eyes met, and glanced one against theother, like the blades of duellists in a preliminary pass. Her breathcame thick and fast. She felt the anxious, tumultuous beating of herheart.

  Lord Sandford was the first to break the tense silence.

  "Lady Geraldine, I came hither to-night to receive an answer to theoffer of marriage which I sent to you through your mother, Lady Romaine.Is this the answer you have prepared for me?"

  He looked straight at the girl, and then at Grey, with a wide, unabashedgaze that did not shrink or falter. Grey made one step forward, andspoke in low, quiet tones.

  "My lord, you may receive your answer at my hands, for the LadyGeraldine Adair is now my promised wife."

  "Lady Geraldine," spoke Lord Sandford, "is this the truth?"

  "It is, my lord, albeit I had not meant to give you your answer in suchlike fashion. I thank you for the honour you have done me; but my heartis given elsewhere."

  "Right!" spoke Lord Sandford, in his resonant and emphatic tones. Hehad dropped the curtain behind him, and now came forward several paces.His face was not easy to read, but he held his head proudly, and lookedthe lovers straight in the eyes. "I would not have it otherwise, LadyGeraldine; for you have chosen well. You have chosen such an one as youmust needs choose. Like will seek like; virtue, fidelity, purity, andhonour must fly upward, will not be dragged downward. I saw it from thefirst; and at the first I rebelled. I swore it should not be so. Istooped to dishonour to remove an obstacle from my path. I thought I hadsucceeded; but soon I knew I had not advanced my cause one whit. I wasrightly served. I did wrong with open eyes. I sinned, as it were, witha cart-rope; and I have had my deserts. I lost my friend, but I won nowife. I was outwitted, at every point. I went on hoping. I am not aman who easily gives up what my heart is set on. Up to the last I hopedto win. But yesterday, after my letter was written and dispatched, Iknew that I was beaten at every point."

  "Yesterday," faltered Geraldine.

  "Even so, lady. I have been absent from town of late; but yesterday inthe afternoon I returned. I went as usual to the coffee-house to learnthe news, and I learnt it."

  Lord Sandford's gaze flashed full upon Grey. He stood squarely in frontof him, and held out his hand.

  "Grey Dumaresq, I did once seek to do you a great and a grievous wrong.I confess the same with shame of heart. Will you accept my hand infriendship now, and with it my heartiest good wishes for your happinessin life with the lady of your choice?"

  Grey did not hesitate; his hand was in Lord Sandford's, clasping itclose. All was forgotten, at that moment save the old attraction andfascination which this man had exercised upon him from the first.

  "I love the lady of your choice," spoke the Earl, without the faintestshade of hesitation in his tone. "I have loved her long. I doubt me ifever I shall love another in like fashion. And because I love her withevery best and truest feeling of my heart, so am I able to desire aboveall else in the world her be
st happiness. That happiness she will findwith you rather than with me. I am not fool enough not to know that.If I could have won her, I would have sought to make her happy. I swearit before God! But having failed, I yet desire above all things to seeher happy with the man of her choice; and I say that she has chosenwisely."

  It was indeed a triumph of love. The innate strength and nobility ofthis man's nature had been brought out by the honest fervour of hislove. He had enough greatness of soul to be able to give the right handof fellowship to his successful rival, though he himself must foregothat happiness which he had long been seeking to attain. Grey felt thatin the days that were to come Lord Sandford must needs show himself indifferent colours from those of the past. This victory must surely be astepping-stone on which he would rise to higher and nobler things.

  Geraldine now stood before him, all shrinking over, her eyes alight withpure womanly gratitude, admiration, and affection.

  "I thank you, my lord, for such good words. Forgive me if I have evermisjudged you."

  "Nay, lady, you never did that; you did but appraise me too truly."

  "Yet I had ever some liking for you, my lord--think it nototherwise--save when I thought, I feared--"

  "Yes, yes; I know, I understand. Friendship you had for me, so long asI deserved it; but love--never. And you were right, Lady Geraldine; youwere right to withhold that. Perchance if your sweet eyes, like wellsof liquid light, had not seen so clearly, had not read the secrets Isought to hide, my own love might not have blazed so fiercely. It isever the unattainable which men desire to possess. But let us think ofthat no more. Let us bury the past, and live anew in the future.Friendship is left to us--a friendship which, I trust, will last alifetime." And so speaking he turned once more to Grey, and said with asmile lighting his face,--

  "And shall I, for a wedding-gift, restore to you your good horse, DonCarlos, at present in my stables at St. Albans?"

  He spoke so freely and openly that Grey heard him in amaze.

  "Have you Don Carlos?" spoke Geraldine, much astonished. "I did thinkthat he was stolen from Sir Grey."

  "And so think I; but I have had no hand in that business, save that Idid hear something of the matter, and fearing foul play I resolved tobecome master of the gallant beast. Grey had disappeared, I knew notwhere. My evil anger had burned itself out, and I loathed myself forwhat I had done in the past. I thought that I might perchance make somereparation by purchasing the good horse he loved, since I heard it wasto be sold, that I might keep it awhile, and restore it to its owner ifkind fortune gave me the chance. It seemed to me all the amends I mightever make to the steed and his rider for the mischief I sought once todo to both. So, my friend, the horse is yours whensoever you like tolay claim to him. I restore him the more readily in that none of mypeople can ride him. He brooks not long a strange rider on his back.He has condescended to carry me for a brief while, but he goesunwillingly; he frets after his old master. He would win no races for anew one. So tell me only where and when to deliver him, and you shallhave him so soon as you desire. I trow the old miser of Hartsbourne,who, I hear, is now dead, filched him from you by subtlety, for youwould never sell your friend."

  Grey, ashamed of the thoughts he had harboured against Lord Sandford inthis matter, told the whole tale of the creature's disappearance; but headded, with a smile,--

  "I suspect that whatever price you paid for him is lying in one of thecoffers now discovered in the old house, and I will gladly buy himback."

  "Nay, nay; that must not be. It is my wedding-gift to you or to yourgentle lady here; and all I ask is, that upon some future day you willsuffer me to visit you in your wedded home at Hartsbourne, and see DonCarlos and his master united once more."

  *CHAPTER XX.*

  *MERRY AS A MARRIAGE BELL.*

  The brilliant light of a sunny June morning was illumining the privatechapel, where a marriage was being solemnized in presence of the Queen,and of certain favoured persons connected with the Court, of whom theDuchess of Marlborough was one.

  The Duke himself was in Holland, whither he had gone so soon as the armywas able to leave its winter quarters. The year of victory, from whichhe had returned a few months before, was destined to be followed by ayear of disaster to the Allies, and already the brow of the Duchessseemed somewhat clouded by care. She had her own troubles, too, atCourt. The Queen's favour was distinctly waning, and the imperioustemper of the Duchess knew not how to put up with what seemed to hercoldness or slights. She felt the influence of Harley, and of herkinswoman and his, Mrs. Masham, gaining ground daily; and the presage ofcoming trouble seemed to be hanging over her now. Yet she bore herselfbravely, and to-day her face was wreathed in smiles; for Sir GreyDumaresq was her particular favourite, and had been her guest for agreat part of the year, whenever he was in town; and the Queen'sinterest in the young man and his career and success was one of thestrongest links which still bound them together.

  And to-day Grey Dumaresq was to wed the Lady Geraldine, and the Queenhad decreed that the ceremony should take place at an early hour in herown private chapel in Kensington Palace, that she might witness thenuptials herself; for she had been greatly pleased by the beauty andmodesty and gentleness of Geraldine, who had been presented to her bythe Duchess, and she desired to show her approval of the young baronet'schoice by her own presence at his espousals.

  Lady Romaine had forgotten her anger and jealousy against her daughterin her pride and delight at the honour bestowed upon them. It hadpleased her to speak slightingly of the Queen and her Court at suchtimes as she had been uncertain of the nature of her own receptionthere; but now she could not boast sufficiently of the condescension andkindness of the Queen, of her intimacy with the Duchess, and of thefavour in which her son-in-law-elect was held by royalty and by all theCourt. The matron had even found it well to throw aside some of thosefrivolities and follies that hitherto had been jealously retained, asgiving her favour in the eyes of the young bloods of fashion, with whomshe had been wont to amuse herself. Her ready observation told her thatshe was derided for these by graver persons, and that at the Court theywould hinder rather than help her advance to favour. With quickadaptability, she had sought to model herself upon the graver ladiessurrounding the Queen, and even to emulate the Duchess of Marlborough inher stately dignity of demeanour. If she had not succeeded in this, shehad at least gained much that had hitherto been lacking, and her husbandand daughter rejoiced heartily in the change. If some of her admirersforsook her, she found their place taken by men of far greater standing,who regarded Lord Romaine as a man likely to be useful to his party, andpaid a certain polished court to his handsome wife. The lady began totalk politics now, to discuss the Act of Union, the OccasionalConformity Bill, and other topics of the day, with an air of interestand knowledge; and being gifted with considerable quickness and powersof assimilation and reproduction, she was soon able to hold her own, andpass for a woman of acuteness and observation.

  She had found her daughter of great use to her at the first, forGeraldine was remarkably well educated, and had a very clear notion ofthe state of parties and the history of public movements. All herstores of information were at her mother's disposal, and so a new linkhad been formed between them during the months of the girl's betrothal,and instead of the mother's looking forward with delight to being rid ofthe incubus of a grown-up daughter, she was disposed to be pathetic overthe separation and her own personal loss.

  Now this was a very happy change for Geraldine, for the lack of amother's love had been very keenly felt by her. Her face, as she stoodat the altar, plighting her troth to the man she loved, was full of awonderful happiness and joy--a different face from the grave and almostwistful one of the past; different, and yet with an enhanced beautywhich riveted the eyes of all beholders, and caused the Queen to wipeher eyes with her lace kerchief as she gazed, whisper softly in the earof one of her ladies,--

 
"Ah me! it is good to be young and beloved! Heaven send she may neverknow aught to dim that joy and that love!"

  Sir Grey's happiness and joy was no whit less than that of his bride,and was written almost as clear upon his face. Bride and bridegroomwere both clad in white, as became the season and the ceremony; and theyoung man's gleaming whiteness was well set off by the gorgeous coloursof Lord Sandford's attire, as he stood beside him as his supporter and"best man." This he did by his own request, and with the ready consentof the Queen. She had been told enough of Lord Sandford to beinterested in that rather remarkable personage. She had given himaudience more than once, and had intrusted him earlier in the year witha special embassy to the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene, which hehad so ably carried out that it was whispered he was likely to obtainmore such secret service errands. It was the sort of work for which hewas eminently fitted, and the responsibility had sobered him and kept incheck all disposition on his part to break out into any of the wildexcesses with which he had been wont to amuse himself in order to whileaway the time. He was now setting to work to get his affairs intoorder. Having failed to win the fortune of the heiress, he had to turnhis mind to other methods. He had sold his horses for large sums to thegilded dandies who fluttered about him, and with some heavy winnings atthe card-tables he paid off a number of his debts, and began to feellike a free man. The sale of his property at St. Albans, which he nolonger wanted, enabled him to pay off a mortgage upon his ancestralacres; and with a little care and moderate luck in gaming (for LordSandford was not possessed of the scruples which had harassed Grey, andwhich were far in advance of his day), he hoped soon to retrieve theposition of a man of wealth and position, which he had been inclined tofling away for the pleasures of a careless and vicious age.

  His friendship with Grey Dumaresq, strangely begun, and strangelybroken, was now cemented afresh, and seemed likely to last and toincrease. It was by his own wish that he stood beside him on hismarriage day. He had so schooled himself that he could do this withoutpain, and he would have grudged the place to any other, claiming his ownright as being Grey's oldest available friend.

  And now the brief ceremony was ended. Sir Grey and his bride came downfrom the steps of the altar to receive the felicitations andgratulations of their friends. The Queen kissed the bride upon herbrow, wished her happiness, and presented her with a beautiful clasp ofdiamonds and pearls, which she took from the laces about her throat, andbade the young wife wear for her sake. Then when the royal lady hadtaken her departure, and the little procession had left the chapel,other friends and well-wishers crowded round, prophesying happiness andall other good things to the youthful pair. They streamed out--arainbow-tinted bevy--into the courtyard, where coaches waited to conveythem to the wedding feast at Lord Romaine's house; and this they foundlaid out in _al fresco_ fashion beneath the trees of the beautiful oldgarden, which had been Geraldine's place of refuge for so long, and towhich she would be half sorry now to bid farewell.

  "Do you remember, sweetheart," whispered Grey in her ear, as they stoodtogether and a little apart at the conclusion of the banquet--"do youremember that summer morning a year ago when I did hear you singing, andcould not keep away?"

  "Remember! Do I ever forget it as I stand here looking at the shiningriver? Ah dear my lord, methinks it was upon that day that my heartfirst did leave mine own keeping, albeit it was long ere I knew it!"

  "Could we but have seen how it would be a year hence with us, how littlewould the clouds and darkness which followed have disturbed and troubledour peace!"

  "And yet methinks, dear love, it is better not to know; for so do welearn to trust the love of our heavenly Father, and to put our faith andconfidence in Him. So He leads us from darkness into light, and ourhearts are filled with love and gratitude towards Him."

  Grey bent and kissed her on the brow.

  "You shall teach me more of your pure faith and love, my wife, that wemay be one in all things."

  Don Carlos was pawing the stones of the courtyard, in fretted impatiencewhich Dick had some ado to curb. Beside him stood a light, gracefulbarb, bearing a lady's saddle on his back. A little in the rear weresome half-dozen horses and some liveried servants. The clock in thetower of Lord Romaine's house had just struck the hour of three.

  The doors were flung open wide, and forth there came a gay company ofguests, all eager to speed upon their way the newly-wedded pair. Thesehad changed their wedding finery for riding dress. Grey wore hisfavourite workman-like suit of fine buff, stamped in silver, with whitebuckskin breeches and long boots. His lady was habited in ariding-dress of white face-cloth, with lacings of golden cord, a whitehat with a drooping plume, and long white gauntlet gloves. Her palfreywas snow-white too, as became the bearer of a bride; and as Grey swungher deftly to her saddle, the pretty creature curveted and pranced, asthough in pride at bearing so fair a burden.

  The next minute the bridegroom had leaped upon Don Carlos, and bothriders were waving their hands in response to the eager clamour ofgratulation and farewell which sprang to the lips of the bystanders.Smiling and waving his hat, Grey put Don Carlos at a trot, and thelittle procession swept out of the courtyard in all the glory of thesummer afternoon, with the voices of their friends sounding gaily intheir ears.

  "We shall be at Hartsbourne ere the day dies, sweet wife," spoke Grey,as he looked up at the sunny sky. "You will not be fatigued by theride, after all you have gone through? You would not rather spend anight upon the way?"

  "Ah no; this is rest," answered Geraldine, as her light, mettlesomepalfrey cantered gently alongside the stalwart Don Carlos. "I couldride for ever through this clear, soft sunshine, with the wind fanningour faces. Nay, nay, but we will reach Hartsbourne to-night. Have Inot waited long enough to see my future home, O tyrant husband, whowould not take me there before?" and a laugh sparkled in her eyes as shespoke these words, for it had always been one of their cherished jeststhat not till she came there as his wife should she look upon thebeauties and the charms of Hartsbourne.

  "Did you desire it then so much, dearest?" he asked. "It was my wishthat it should be made a meet and fitting home for you ere I did bringyou thither. It looked so desolate when I reached it after being longabsent. I did desire to take away that air of desolation ere your deareyes should behold it. Yet had I thought you wished it so much--"

  "I wish nothing but to do your will, good my lord," she answered, with alook in her eyes that set his heart beating tumultuously within him."And is not this worth waiting for? Can any sight of it be precious asthis one will be, when my husband takes me home?"

  They had distanced their servants, and were riding alone in the lane;for they skirted the great city instead of passing through it, and keptto the softer, pleasanter tracks through fields and woodlands; so hecould reach forth and take her hand, and hold it in his as they rodeonwards with free elastic stride.

  "My beloved, my beloved, my beloved!" he replied, and his tongue refusedall other words.

  The glory of the summer sunset was in the sky as they breasted the lastwooded ridge which hid them from the hollow in which Hartsbourne lay.The woods, shimmering in their exquisite dress of golden green, seemedto take fire from the level glory of the ruddy rays lying across them.The waving grass tossed like a restless sea of light, as the breezeplayed over it; and the birds in the thickets, silent during the hoursof heat, now burst into liquid melody to sing to rest the dying day.

  Halting at the top of the ridge, as Grey had halted there so long ago,as it now seemed to him, he pointed downwards with his whip, and therewas a little quiver in his voice as he said,--

  "Yonder, in that hollow, lies our home. You can scarce see it for thescreen of the trees; but you will see it anon--there where the shiningstream meanders and the glades of the wood open out. Come, let us leavethe road, and ride through my favourite glade. So shall I show you aglimpse of your home, where to my eyes it looks the fairest."

  They moved along side by sid
e. The horses' feet made scarce a sound,sunk deep in grass and moss. The golden glamour of the beech woodencircled them, lights and shadows played hide-and-seek along the sward,flowers gemmed the hollows, and the breath of the honeysuckle was sweetto their senses as they pursued their way. The deer got up in haste attheir approach, and scuttled away into deeper shadow; and squirrels andrabbits whisked hither and thither, astonished at this sudden invasionof their silvan solitude.

  But the bride and bridegroom scarce exchanged a word; their hearts werewell-nigh too full. The happiness was almost oppressive. Suddenly Greypaused, and, drawing her a little to the left, pointed through anopening in the trees and said,--

  "There is your home, my dearest!"

  She saw it then, and her heart gave a great throb. They were lookingupon the west front of the gray old house, no longer lying desolate,forlorn, shut up, its windows broken or shuttered, neglect and decayeverywhere. No, all that was changed now. The windows shone betweentheir carved mullions; the creepers which curtained the walls had beencut and trained, so that they could bloom and breathe once more, insteadof hanging in vast masses, almost broken down by their own weight. Thelast of the sunlight gilded the tracery of oriel window and ancientcarving; lay like a caress upon the smooth green of the wide terrace infront, with its clipped yew trees, its stone vases and statues, and itsancient sundial. Two stately peacocks walked up and down, uttering fromtime to time their strange, melancholy trumpet note. A great hound roseup from a sheltered corner, threw his head into the air, sniffed for afew moments, and then bounded towards them with a mighty baying sound.

  "Our first welcome, dear heart," spoke Grey. "This is one of theguardians of Hartsbourne's treasure. Well, he must learn that he has anew and a greater treasure to guard now."

  The hound knew the master well. He fawned upon him with delight; and,after having gravely sniffed at Geraldine's proffered hand, took heronce and for all beneath his protection, and shared the love of hisfaithful heart betwixt her and her lord.

  The young wife slipped from her saddle as they reached the little woodenbridge which led over the stream, and the servants coming up in a fewmoments took the horses round by the road, whilst husband and wife wentonwards with the hound in attendance, up the sloping greensward, whereflowers gemmed the borders, and roses gave forth their sweetness uponthe evening air; through the gardens, already partially restored, and intime to be made yet more beautiful; towards the house which was theirhome, lying dim and dreamlike in the gathering twilight.

  "Dear heart, we are at home. Welcome to Hartsbourne!" spoke he. Andshe could only lift her quivering lips to his, for she had no words inwhich to answer him.

  And so they passed into the ancient house together, to receive theloving greetings of their retainers and servants, who all knew themaster by this time, and were eager and joyfully ready to receive thebride of his choice. Old Jock was there, in the glory of his new placeas house-steward, the tears of joy standing in his eyes as he kissed thehand the lady graciously extended, when she thanked him for hisprotestations of devotion, and told him how she had heard of hisfidelity to his master. It was all so happy, so full of simple joy andgood will. She read affection to her lord in every face; she saw by theflower-decked rooms and the loving care everywhere visible throughoutthe quaint old house how much all had desired that this home-comingshould bring joy to their hearts and bespeak the welcome of lovingservice. That was more to her than the beauty of the things her eyesrested upon--the soft hangings, the quaint carvings, the pictures, theplenishings, the rare and costly objects which met her gaze at everyturn.

  "They were found in the secret chamber, most of them," Grey told her as,after having supped, they walked hand in hand through the house, whichwas all lighted up for their inspection. "When and how and whence theycame there, I know not. Jock declares that many are heirlooms, whichmust have been hidden away in some time of peril--possibly at the risingof Monmouth, or at the Revolution; some perhaps even in the civil war;others, methinks, my poor father must have won from luckless gamblers,and have sold to his kinsman, or paid over to him as interest upondebts. I know not, I cannot tell; but here they are, and all men tellme they are mine. They will serve to make a fitting setting for thepriceless jewel which my house doth now enshrine; and in so doing, theyand we must needs find contentment."

  It would have been hard, in sooth, not to feel contentment in suchenvironment. Grey had taken care not to destroy, but to restore, whenthe old house passed into his keeping once more. The old world charmhung yet upon it; nothing garish or bizarre was to be found there, as inthe houses of fashionable dames such as Lady Romaine, who loved tojumble together trophies and curiosities from every part of the globe inconfusion worse confounded. There was none of this lavish profusion orconfusion here; but each thing looked in its own place, set off bypolished panelling or dusky arras. And even the scent of rose leaveswas the same as in his mother's day; and Grey whispered to his bridethat he liked to think she could see them now, and share in some sorttheir happiness.

  As they reached the end of a long gallery, which brought theirwanderings almost to a close, Grey paused before the door of a certainroom, and instead of turning the handle immediately, he knocked upon thepanels of the door.

  A deep sonorous voice bade him enter; and taking his wife's hand in his,he led her into a large, low, airy apartment, which had windows lookingboth south and west, where, upon a cleverly-contrived couch, runningvery easily upon wheels, lay an old man with a lion-like face and a massof snow-white hair, whose hands were extended in eager yet restrainedand dignified greeting.

  "Welcome--thrice welcome--happy bridegroom! Methought you would not failto come and visit me to-night!"

  "Of course I should not fail, good friend; and here I bring you my wife,whom you have ofttimes desired to see.--Geraldine, need I tell you thatthis is my friend, Mr. Jonathan Wylde, whom last you saw as Father Timewith his scythe and hour-glass? Well, he has cheated both, you see,albeit he was like to be mown down once. He will remain as our honouredguest and friend so long as he is spared to us. For he did come to myaid when I was very near to desperation and despair, and we have stoodshoulder to shoulder ever since."

  "I know all the tale," answered Geraldine, and she knelt down and tookthe old man's hands in hers, bending upon him one of her sweetestglances. "It is a tale that goes to my heart, for it is hard to thinkeven of sufferings past, where those we love are concerned. I thank youfrom my heart for all you did at that time for my husband. And indeedit was (under Providence) through you that his bark reached at the lastso fair a haven, and that we are here together this night."

  The tears which had sprung to the old man's eyes slowly rolled down hischeeks. His happiness in seeing again the man he loved with his brideat his side was almost too much for him. Geraldine saw this, andpressed his hands gently, rising to her feet at the same time.

  "Nay, nay," he answered brokenly; "I was but an instrument in the handsof Providence--a link of the chain not made by human hands."

  "Yes, truly, we will think of it like that. It is God who has broughtgood out of evil, peace out of strife, calm out of storm for us all. ToHim will we give the thanks and the praise. And now, good friend, wemust bid you farewell, though only till the morrow."

  He took their hands, one in each of his, and looked at them as one ofthe old patriarchs might have gazed upon his beloved ones.

  "God bless and prosper you, my children!" he said; and they softlyanswered, "Amen."

  PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS.