festivity out of the question, a circumstance by no means in itself to be deplored. There would have been something that to her mind would have seemed to court rather than defy inquiry, had Hugh been married with all that flourish of trumpets that became his supposed position in the county. To get it done in so quiet a manner was, apart from the sad cause for quietness, a matter on which she had indeed much cause for congratulation. In this, too, she found sympathizers in all the inmates of the Rectory. The bride's ambition was of the practical sort; she was well content to enjoy her triumph without spectators; while her mother, though she allowed herself some pardonable pride in her daughter's new position, had little taste for pomps and vanities of any kind. It was sufficient for her that her remaining daughter should accompany her sister to the altar, though as her only bridesmaid; and that her husband, unassisted by dean or bishop, should perform the ceremony. Mr. Thorne did indeed suggest to Lady Trevor that it would be a kindly recognition of old times to invite Canon Spenser, as a friend of the family, and a former Rector of Mirbridge, to help him to tie the knot, but the proposition was received with unmistakable disfavour.

'If the Canon were to come, my dear Mr. Thorne, it is certain he would wish to see my husband, to whom every species of excitement has been forbidden, you know, by the doctor,'

The injunction must indeed have been a strict one, since it not not only shut out the Rector himself from the sick-room, but even the bride and bridegroom. The circumstance of Sir Richard not even bidding them good-bye would certainly have occasioned some scandal, but that on the morning of the wedding the invalid was understood to have suffered a slight relapse, which put his doing so out of the question. No doubt, thought those who beheld the gloom on Dr. Ward's handsome face, it was the knowledge of his patient's precarious position that overshadowed it, and made him so very unlike a marriage guest. He came, indeed, to the modest feast at the Court, but not till after the happy couple had been whisked away by their four posters over the snow; and to witness their marriage he could not bring himself. He went to the church, as in duty bound, but the sight of the lovely Clara attired for the altar was too much for him; and, under pretence of an urgent message from a patient-the first professional advertisement the young fellow, to do him justice, had ever feigned-he fled the spectacle of what he called her sacrifice to Mammon. The phrase was a severe one, and, at all events, quite uncalled for upon his part, since she had never shown the least desire to be sacrificed to Esculapius; but he was not the only one who did not look

upon Mr. Hugh Trevor as the ideal of love's young dream in Clara's eyes. Mrs. Grange had come back from town, where she had seen her son happily united to his beloved, with no very high opinion of the gentleman who, in his character of bridegroom, she privately stigmatized as "Jenny's leavings;' she was old-fashioned, and entertained the complacent conviction that, if she had been in Miss Clara's place, she would not have permitted him to transfer his affections to herself with such abruptness. That Clara knew of that little episode she had not a shade of doubt; but, on the other hand, the housekeeper was both discreet and loyal, and not a word escaped her lips that could lead anyone else to guess at it.

Mr. John Beeton, naturally enough, also listened to the vows of the young squire with cynical incredulity. Delicacy of feeling might have kept others in his place absent from the wedding; nor did any interest in the bridegroom-unless, indeed, such can be said to be evoked by an unmitigated detestation-attract him thither. But curiosity and the allurements of a gratuitous entertainment were too strong for him. The knowledge that there was plenty of good liquor provided at the Court for all who had witnessed the ceremony may also have influenced his conduct.

Mr. Smug was another person who entertained no high opinion of Mr. Hugh Trevor as a bridegroom, but he, too, kept it to himself. Though he would doubtless have resented the appellation as anything but a compliment, the preacher was a man of honour. The notion of making mischief between high and low, which to some persons in his position would have been an irresistible temptation, was abhorrent to him. Such was his simplicity that he could not imagine the bride to be cognizant of Hugh's late peccadillo (which it is probable he would have designated by a very different name), and regarded her, with sad forebodings, as an innocent and unconscious victim to a libertine. Her beauty had awakened in him a homage (though of a very different kind) as genuine as in the breast of the young doctor himself ; and it is probable, even if his objections to prelatical observances had not kept him absent from the ceremony, that he would not have had the heart' to witness it. He missed, however, a most charming sight. Never had the old church, still gay with its Christmas decorations, held so lovely and majestic a bride. Lady Trevor, herself, who had so many reasons for regretting that she was compelled to welcome Clara Thorne as a daughter-in-law, could not withhold her unstinted admiration for so much grace and beauty. Even the bride's own mother seemed for the first time to become aware of those transcendent charms which drew the tears of pride to her tender eyes.

Nor can it be denied that Hugh himself looked every inch a

bridegroom. His face was always a striking one, and would have been handsome but for its expression, which was generally either cynical or morose; but, as Lady Trevor would sometimes remark, with a naïveté very foreign to her character: There is no one looks more charming, when he is pleased, than my son Hugh.' On the present occasion he might well look pleased (without deserving much praise for being so good as to be in a good temper), and he did so. The question, however, that occurred to more than one spectator who watched his smiling gaze as it rested upon his lovely bride, was, 'I wonder how long it will last.'

The smile of his best man, Mr. Gurdon, who was otherwise by no means to be compared with him for good looks, was, on the other hand, one of the pleasantest sights in that gay scene, and seemed to emit a whole atmosphere of good-humour. It was obviously the outcome of a kind and cheerful nature, and made to last. His hostess had been long greatly indebted to it, especially in the maintenance of peace between her two sons during the last eventful days. Never so near as when we part,' says the proverb; but the brothers had never been so near a quarrel as when they were about to part. Hugh had considered the occasion of his own marriage an opportune one for dropping more than one hint of the absurdity of penniless younger sons entangling themselves with portionless girls.

CHAPTER XLVII.

COMING HOME.

THE young couple had been away a month; one of almost unmixed felicity to the other young couple they had left behind them. Charlie felt that he was at home indeed in the absence of his elder brother. His mother unswayed by favoritism, permitted her natural affection for him to take its course, and had never shown herself so kind. The relief she experienced in Hugh's marriage was extreme, and but for her anxiety upon Sir Richard's account-who had grown rather worse than bettershe felt more lightened of her load of care than she had done for years. She hardly regretted that half her secret had been discovered, since it had fallen into hands so capable and willing to guard it; and comforted herself ten times a day with the reflection that Hugh had married a wife whose intelligence and strength of character would supply much of what he lacked, and keep him straight in the path of life. This reflection helped to incline her heart toward Lucy, whom, indeed, her judgmentseldom at fault when unperverted by prejudice—had always highly approved. However much a union between that young

lady and her second son was to be deprecated, it was clear to her that if Clara wished it, the thing must be; she was in no position to withstand her will, and to say the truth, was not much moved to do so. She had never felt greatly interested in the future of her younger son; and now that Hugh had failed to ally himself with a county family,' it was not worth while to look in that direction for his brother.

Upon Lucy the effect of all this was, of course, exceedingly favourable; it almost seemed to her that she had now two homes in Mirbridge instead of one. The arrival of Miss Mumchance, who came over to spend a week or two at the Court according to promise, was, too, a far from unwelcome event. She had a genuine liking for this good-natured heiress, who, with characteristic consideration pairing off with Mr. Gurdon, left her Charlie more entirely to herself than if there had been no visitor at all. The one thing that interfered with her complete contentment was the fear that Clara might not be enjoying so happy a lot; for though the letters she occasionally received from her hinted at nothing amiss, she seemed to read between the lines that all was far from well with her. That Clara should write after the manner of brides during their honeymoon was not to be expected; she was not the sort of young person to be blinded by a rose-coloured atmosphere of limited extent, and was as little likely to be intoxicated with bliss as with alcohol. Still, a few more references to the husband of her choice, thought Lucy, would not have been out of place; and when she did mention him she might have expressed herself more tenderly. Had that battle for Who should be Master already begun, she wondered, in the very lists of love? To picture Clara as vanquished was difficult indeed; but unless her success had been so complete as to warrant her in ignoring her adversary, her style was not certainly that of a victor. Both the matter and manner of her letters were just as they used to be-frank, cynical, and affectionately patronizing-but, reading them with critical eyes, Lucy discerned in them the traces of effort. If Clara was unhappy, this was exactly what was to have been expected, for her pride would never have permitted her to own that she had missed the aim of her life.

The bridegroom wrote one solitary letter to his mother, in which the only reference to his wife was incidental, and contained in the pronoun' we.' 'We are coming home,' he said, 'on the 15th.' In the postscript-perhaps because, like the fair sex, he was accustomed to put the most important subject in the addendum, but more likely because he had almost forgotten ithe asked after Sir Richard's health. Lady Trevor was distressed, but not surprised. As to his father, she was well aware that there was no love lost-for years there had never been any

between him and his son; and as to his wife, she had better reasons than Lucy to apprehend that there had been quarrels between the newly-married pair. It is certainly much better for the general happiness that masterful' men and women should marry one another, and not make two 'incompatible' couples instead of one; but two thunderclouds cannot be expected to come together without explosions. What she hoped for, if the contest should be still undecided when the happy pair came home, was that her influence might make peace between them, or such a semblance of it as might enable them to 'get on' together; it was not a very pleasant outlook, but she was far more used to see the ragged rims of thunder looming low' about her than cloudless sunshine.

The Turtle Doves, as Charlie called them, came home on the day appointed, but at an earlier hour than they had named. The two young men were out shooting-or rather Charlie was shooting, and Mr. Gurdon with him in the character of critic and sporting prophet, for which he was not worse qualified than critics and prophets sometimes are-and Lady Trevor received them alone.

She gave her daughter-in-law an affectionate embrace, to which Clara for the moment responded, then suddenly became a lay figure. To stiffen and thaw is common enough, but the reverse process is more unusual; nevertheless, Lady Trevor, without taking notice of it, made a shrewd guess at its cause. Clara had resolutely sat herself against her-though as to the reason she, of course, knew nothing-but had been overcome for the moment by the genuineness of her welcome. She was persuaded that, with all her faults, the girl had a good heart, and was resolved to win it. It was very hard, that for something Clara had to find fault with in her husband she should thus visit it upon his mother; but she was used to find things hard.

'My darling Hugh, how glad I am to see you back again!' He gave her a peck or two in exchange for her loving kisses, but his eyes had no answering love in them; they were, indeed, fixed upon his wife (who, whether from delicacy or indifference, had turned her back upon them both) with a most unmistakable expression of disfavour.

How is the governor ?' he inquired in a tone which, however wanting in tenderness, certainly betrayed no lack of interest.

‘Alas! my dear, no better.'

'Ah!' he said; and in his gloomy face, still fixed upon his wife, satisfaction seemed to mingle with menace.

It was a dreadful home-coming.

'I will show you your room, my dear Clara,' said Lady Trevor, and then you will be ready, I am sure, for a cup of tea.'