. For what reason, perhaps she could not
have explained to herself; but an instinct was upon her that secrecy in
all ways was necessary; at any rate, she felt surer of success whilst
it was maintained. Hence her decision in regard to the unused little
chapel; and that this one particular portion of the project had been long
floating in her mind was proved by the fact that she had previously
caused the chapel to be renovated. But that it was to serve her own turn,
she would have let it remain choked up with dust for ever.

The special license had arrived; the young clergyman who was to perform
the service was located at Hartledon. Seven o'clock was the hour fixed
for the marriage: it would be twilight then, and dinner over. Immediately
afterwards the bride and bridegroom were to depart. So far, so good. But
Lady Kirton was not to have it quite her own way on this same Saturday,
although she had enjoyed it hitherto.

A rumour reached her ears in the afternoon that Dr. Ashton was at the
Rectory. The doctor had been spending Easter at Cannes, and the dowager
had devoutly prayed that he might not yet return. The news turned her
cheeks blue and yellow; a prevision rushing over her that if he and Lord
Hartledon met there might be no wedding after all. She did her best to
keep Lord Hartledon indoors, and the fact of the Rector's return from
him.

Now who is going to defend Lord Hartledon? Not you or I. More foolish,
more culpable weakness was never shown than in thus yielding to these
schemes. Though ensnared by Maude's beauty, that was no excuse for him.

An accident--or what may be called one--delayed dinner. Two county
friends of Hartledon's, jolly fox-hunters in the season, had come riding
a long way across country, and looked in to beg some refreshment. The
dowager fumed, and was not decently civil; but she did not see her way to
turning them out.

They talked and laughed and ate; and dinner was indefinitely prolonged.
When the dowager and Lady Maude rose from table the former cast a meaning
look at Lord Hartledon. "Get rid of them as soon as you can," it plainly
said.

But the fox-hunters liked good drinking as well as good eating, and sat
on, enjoying their wine; their host, one of the most courteous of living
men, giving no sign, by word or look, that he wished for their departure.
He was rather silent, they observed; but the young clergyman, who made
the fourth at the table, was voluble by nature. Captain Kirton