in her pride and delight at the honour bestowed upon them. It had
pleased her to speak slightingly of the Queen and her Court at such
times as she had been uncertain of the nature of her own reception
there; but now she could not boast sufficiently of the condescension and
kindness of the Queen, of her intimacy with the Duchess, and of the
favour in which her son-in-law-elect was held by royalty and by all the
Court. The matron had even found it well to throw aside some of those
frivolities and follies that hitherto had been jealously retained, as
giving her favour in the eyes of the young bloods of fashion, with whom
she had been wont to amuse herself. Her ready observation told her that
she was derided for these by graver persons, and that at the Court they
would hinder rather than help her advance to favour. With quick
adaptability, she had sought to model herself upon the graver ladies
surrounding the Queen, and even to emulate the Duchess of Marlborough in
her stately dignity of demeanour. If she had not succeeded in this, she
had at least gained much that had hitherto been lacking, and her husband
and daughter rejoiced heartily in the change. If some of her admirers
forsook 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, and
paid a certain polished court to his handsome wife. The lady began to
talk politics now, to discuss the Act of Union, the Occasional
Conformity Bill, and other topics of the day, with an air of interest
and knowledge; and being gifted with considerable quickness and powers
of assimilation and reproduction, she was soon able to hold her own, and
pass for a woman of acuteness and observation.
She had found her daughter of great use to her at the first, for
Geraldine was remarkably well educated, and had a very clear notion of
the state of parties and the history of public movements. All her
stores of information were at her mother's disposal, and so a new link
had 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 of
the incubus of a grown-up daughter, she was disposed to be pathetic over
the separation and her own personal loss.
Now this was a very happy change for Geraldine, for the lack of a
mother's love had been very keenly felt by her. Her face, as she stood
at the altar, plighting her troth to the man she loved, was full of a
wonderful happiness and joy--a different face from the grave and almost
wistful one of the past; different, and yet with an enhanced beauty
which riveted the eyes of all beholders, and caused the Queen to wipe
her eyes with her lace kerchief as she gazed, whisper softly in the ear
of one of her ladies,--
"Ah me! it is good to be young and beloved! Heaven send she may never
know 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 bridegroom
were both clad in white, as became the season and the ceremony; and the
young man's gleaming whiteness was well set off by the gorgeous colours
of 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 consent
of the Queen. She had been told enough of Lord Sandford to be
interested in that rather remarkable personage. She had given him
audience more than once, and had intrusted him earlier in the year with
a special embassy to the Duke of Marlborough and Prince Eugene, which he
had so ably carried out that it was whispered he was likely to obtain
more such secret service errands. It was the sort of work for which he
was eminently fitted, and the responsibility had sobered him and kept in
check all disposition on his part to break out into any of the wild
excesses with which he had been wont to amuse himself in order to while
away the time. He was now setting to work to get his affairs into
order. Having failed to win the fortune of the heiress, he had to turn
his mind to other methods. He had sold his horses for large sums to the
gilded dandies who fluttered about him, and with some heavy winnings at
the card-tables he paid off a number of his debts, and began to feel
like a free man. The sale of his property at St. Albans, which he no
longer wanted, enabled him to pay off a mortgage upon his ancestral
acres; and with a little care and moderate luck in gaming (for Lord
Sandford was not possessed of the scruples which had harassed Grey, and
which were far in advance of his day), he hoped soon to retrieve the
position of a man of wealth and position, which he had been inclined to
fling away for the pleasures of a careless and vicious age.
His friendship with Grey Dumaresq, strangely begun, and strangely
broken, was now cemented afresh, and seemed likely to last and to
increase. It was by his own wish that he stood beside him on his
marriage day. He had so schooled himself that he could do this without
pain, and he would have grudged the place to any other, claiming his own
right as being Grey's oldest available friend.
And now the brief ceremony was ended. Sir Grey and his bride came down
from the steps of the altar to receive the felicitations and
gratulations of their friends. The Queen kissed the bride upon her
brow, wished her happiness, and presented her with a beautiful clasp of
diamonds and pearls, which she took from the laces about her throat, and
bade the young wife wear for her sake. Then when the royal lady had
taken her departure, and the little procession had left the chapel,
other friends and well-wishers crowded round, prophesying happiness and
all other good things to the youthful pair. They streamed out--a
rainbow-tinted bevy--into the courtyard, where coaches waited to convey
them to the wedding feast at Lord Romaine's house; and this they found
laid out in _al fresco_ fashion beneath the trees of the beautiful old
garden, which had been Geraldine's place of refuge for so long, and to
which she would be half sorry now to bid farewell.
"Do you remember, sweetheart," whispered Grey in her ear, as they stood
together and a little apart at the conclusion of the banquet--"do you
remember that summer morning a year ago when I did hear you singing, and
could not keep away?"
"Remember! Do I ever forget it as I stand here looking at the shining
river? Ah dear my lord, methinks it was upon that day that my heart
first 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 little
would the clouds and darkness which followed have disturbed and troubled
our peace!"
"And yet methinks, dear love, it is better not to know; for so do we
learn to trust the love of our heavenly Father, and to put our faith and
confidence in Him. So He leads us from darkness into light, and our
hearts 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 we
may be one in all things."
Don Carlos was pawing the stones of the courtyard, in fretted impatience
which Dick had some ado to curb. Beside him stood a light, graceful
barb, bearing a lady's saddle on his back. A little in the rear were
some half-dozen horses and some liveried servants. The clock in the
tower 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 of
guests, all eager to speed upon their way the newly-wedded pair. These
had changed their wedding finery for riding dress. Grey wore his
favourite workman-like suit of fine buff, stamped in silver, with white
buckskin breeches and long boots. His lady was habited in a
riding-dress of white face-cloth, with lacings of golden cord, a white
hat with a drooping plume, and long white gauntlet gloves. Her palfrey
was snow-white too, as became the bearer of a bride; and as Grey swung
her deftly to her saddle, the pretty creature curveted and pranced, as
though in pride at bearing so fair a burden.
The next minute the bridegroom had leaped upon Don Carlos, and both
riders were waving their hands in response to the eager clamour of
gratulation and farewell which sprang to the lips of the bystanders.
Smiling and waving his hat, Grey put Don Carlos at a trot, and the
little procession swept out of the courtyard in all the glory of the
summer afternoon, with the voices of their friends sounding gaily in
their 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 the
ride, after all you have gone through? You would not rather spend a
night upon the way?"
"Ah no; this is rest," answered Geraldine, as her light, mettlesome
palfrey cantered gently alongside the stalwart Don Carlos. "I could
ride for ever through this clear, soft sunshine, with the wind fanning
our faces. Nay, nay, but we will reach Hartsbourne to-night. Have I
not waited long enough to see my future home, O tyrant husband, who
would not take me there before?" and a laugh sparkled in her eyes as she
spoke these words, for it had always been one of their cherished jests
that not till she came there as his wife should she look upon the
beauties and the charms of Hartsbourne.
"Did you desire it then so much, dearest?" he asked. "It was my wish
that it should be made a meet and fitting home for you ere I did bring
you thither. It looked so desolate when I reached it after being long
absent. I did desire to take away that air of desolation ere your dear
eyes 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 a
look 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 as
this 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 kept
to the softer, pleasanter tracks through fields and woodlands; so he
could reach forth and take her hand, and hold it in his as they rode
onwards with free elastic stride.
"My beloved, my beloved, my beloved!" he replied, and his tongue refused
all other words.
The glory of the summer sunset was in the sky as they breasted the last
wooded ridge which hid them from the hollow in which Hartsbourne lay.
The woods, shimmering in their exquisite dress of golden green, seemed
to 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 breeze
played over it; and the birds in the thickets, silent during the hours
of 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 there
was a little quiver in his voice as he said,--
"Yonder, in that hollow, lies our home. You can scarce see it for the
screen of the trees; but you will see it anon--there where the shining
stream meanders and the glades of the wood open out. Come, let us leave
the road, and ride through my favourite glade. So shall I show you a
glimpse of your home, where to my eyes it looks the fairest."
They moved along side by side. The horses' feet made scarce a sound,
sunk deep in grass and moss. The golden glamour of the beech wood
encircled them, lights and shadows played hide-and-seek along the sward,
flowers gemmed the hollows, and the breath of the honeysuckle was sweet
to their senses as they pursued their way. The deer got up in haste at
their approach, and scuttled away into deeper shadow; and squirrels and
rabbits whisked hither and thither, astonished at this sudden invasion
of their silvan solitude.
But the bride and bridegroom scarce exchanged a word; their hearts were
well-nigh too full. The happiness was almost oppressive. Suddenly Grey
paused, and, drawing her a little to the left, pointed through an
opening in the trees and said,--
"There is your home, my dearest!"
She saw it then, and her heart gave a great throb. They were looking
upon the west front of the gray old house, no longer lying desolate,
forlorn, shut up, its windows broken or shuttered, neglect and decay
everywhere. No, all that was changed now. The windows shone between
their carved mullions; the creepers which curtained the walls had been
cut and trained, so that they could bloom and breathe once more, instead
of hanging in vast masses, almost broken down by their own weight. The
last of the sunlight gilded the tracery of oriel window and ancient
carving; lay like a caress upon the smooth green of the wide terrace in
front, with its clipped yew trees, its stone vases and statues, and its
ancient sundial. Two stately peacocks walked up and down, uttering from
time to time their strange, melancholy trumpet note. A great hound rose
up from a sheltered corner, threw his head into the air, sniffed for a
few moments, and then bounded towards them with a mighty baying sound.
"Our first welcome, dear heart," spoke Grey. "This is one of the
guardians of Hartsbourne's treasure. Well, he must learn that he has a
new 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 her
once and for all beneath his protection, and shared the love of his
faithful heart betwixt her and her lord.
The young wife slipped from her saddle as they reached the little wooden
bridge which led over the stream, and the servants coming up in a few
moments took the horses round by the road, whilst husband and wife went
onwards with the hound in attendance, up the sloping greensward, where
flowers gemmed the borders, and roses gave forth their sweetness upon
the evening air; through the gardens, already partially restored, and in
time to be made yet more beautiful; towards the house which was their
home, lying dim and dreamlike in the gathering twilight.
"Dear heart, we are at home. Welcome to Hartsbourne!" spoke he. And
she could only lift her quivering lips to his, for she had no words in
which to answer him.
And so they passed into the ancient house together, to receive the
loving greetings of their retainers and servants, who all knew the
master by this time, and were eager and joyfully ready to receive the
bride of his choice. Old Jock was there, in the glory of his new place
as house-steward, the tears of joy standing in his eyes as he kissed the
hand the lady graciously extended, when she thanked him for his
protestations of devotion, and told him how she had heard of his
fidelity to his master. It was all so happy, so full of simple joy and
good will. She read affection to her lord in every face; she saw by the
flower-decked rooms and the loving care everywhere visible throughout
the quaint old house how much all had desired that this home-coming
should bring joy to their hearts and bespeak the welcome of loving
service. That was more to her than the beauty of the things her eyes
rested upon--the soft hangings, the quaint carvings, the pictures, the
plenishings, the rare and costly objects which met her gaze at every
turn.
"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, which
was all lighted up for their inspection. "When and how and whence they
came there, I know not. Jock declares that many are heirlooms, which
must have been hidden away in some time of peril--possibly at the rising
of 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 upon
debts. I know not, I cannot tell; but here they are, and all men tell
me they are mine. They will serve to make a fitting setting for the
priceless jewel which my house doth now enshrine; and in so doing, they
and we must needs find contentment."
It would have been hard, in sooth, not to feel contentment in such
environment. Grey had taken care not to destroy, but to restore, when
the old house passed into his keeping once more. The old world charm
hung yet upon it; nothing garish or bizarre was to be found there, as in
the houses of fashionable dames such as Lady Romaine, who loved to
jumble together trophies and curiosities from every part of the globe in
confusion worse confounded. There was none of this lavish profusion or
confusion here; but each thing looked in its own place, set off by
polished panelling or dusky arras. And even the scent of rose leaves
was the same as in his mother's day; and Grey whispered to his bride
that he liked to think she could see them now, and share in some sort
their happiness.
As they reached the end of a long gallery, which brought their
wanderings almost to a close, Grey paused before the door of a certain
room, and instead of turning the handle immediately, he knocked upon the
panels 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 looking
both south and west, where, upon a cleverly-contrived couch, running
very easily upon wheels, lay an old man with a lion-like face and a mass
of snow-white hair, whose hands were extended in eager yet restrained
and dignified greeting.
"Welcome--thrice welcome--happy bridegroom! Methought you would not fail
to 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 that
this is my friend, Mr. Jonathan Wylde, whom last you saw as Father Time
with 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 honoured
guest and friend so long as he is spared to us. For he did come to my
aid when I was very near to desperation and despair, and we have stood
shoulder to shoulder ever since."
"I know all the tale," answered Geraldine, and she knelt down and took
the old man's hands in hers, bending upon him one of her sweetest
glances. "It is a tale that goes to my heart, for it is hard to think
even of sufferings past, where those we love are concerned. I thank you
from my heart for all you did at that time for my husband. And indeed
it was (under Providence) through you that his bark reached at the last
so 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 his
cheeks. His happiness in seeing again the man he loved with his bride
at his side was almost too much for him. Geraldine saw this, and
pressed his hands gently, rising to her feet at the same time.
"Nay, nay," he answered brokenly; "I was but an instrument in the hands
of 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 brought
good out of evil, peace out of strife, calm out of storm for us all. To
Him will we give the thanks and the praise. And now, good friend, we
must bid you farewell, though only till the morrow."
He took their hands, one in each of his, and looked at them as one of
the old patriarchs might have gazed upon his beloved ones.
"God bless and prosper you, my children!" he said; and they softly
answered, "Amen."
PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN AT
THE PRESS OF THE PUBLISHERS.