ht of after events, that she understood the
meaning of marriage, or anything about it save that it was the only
thing that could make an honest woman of her. She was so young, so
lonely, so numbed and overwhelmed by her misfortune. I do not suppose
that she minded very much what they did with her as long as they left
her at last in peace. That she was impressed by the serious persuasion
of Biddy Joyce goes without saying, for there was no other woman by
whom she could set her standard of conduct. No doubt the distress of
Jocelyn, who was now something of a pathetic figure, moved her too. It
must have given her pleasure of a sort to see the way in which he was
relieved by her acceptance of the Considine plan--if anything so
passive can be called an acceptance. The shame of the moment had so
broken him that his sudden recovery of spirits must have been
affecting. It must have seemed to her that she had saved her father's
life.

When once the matter was settled Jocelyn became almost light-hearted,
trying by little tokens of affection and an attitude that was almost
jocular, to pretend that nothing had happened and that the marriage was
no more than the happy conclusion of a normal courtship. On the eve of
the wedding he gave her the contents of her mother's jewel-box, which
included some beautiful ornaments of early Celtic work. He kissed her
and fondled her and hoped she would be happy, but she could not smile.
He dressed elaborately for the ceremony, and when he had left her
behind with Considine, feasted solemnly at Roscarna until Biddy and the
coachman carried him upstairs. Never in the history of Roscarna was
such a tragic bride.

The married couple settled down at Clonderriff in the small grey house
that Considine inhabited. In his bachelor days it had been a
comfortless place, but Jocelyn had seen to it that it was furnished
with some of the lumber of Roscarna: the presses were filled with fine
Hewish linen and the plate engraved with the Hewish crest.

Jocelyn had hoped, in the beginning, that Considine would forsake his
village and come to live at Roscarna. He himself, he said, needed no
more in his old age than a couple of rooms; his daughter and his
son-in-law might take a wing to themselves and do what they liked with
it. He had counted a good deal on the attraction to Considine of the
Roscarna library. His offer was refused. Considine already had his
plans cut and dried. Quite apart from the