raph was inserted in the Wessex papers, announcing that their
marriage was proposed to be celebrated on such and such a day in
December.

His periodic walks along the south side of the valley to visit her were
among the happiest experiences of his life. The yellow leaves falling
around him in the foreground, the well-watered meads on the left hand,
and the woman he loved awaiting him at the back of the scene, promised a
future of much serenity, as far as human judgment could foresee. On
arriving, he would sit with her in the 'parlour' of the wing she
retained, her general sitting-room, where the only relics of her early
surroundings were an old clock from the other end of the house, and her
own piano. Before it was quite dark they would stand, hand in hand,
looking out of the window across the flat turf to the dark clump of trees
which hid further view from their eyes.

'Do you wish you were still mistress here, dear?' he once said.

'Not at all,' said she cheerfully. 'I have a good enough room, and a
good enough fire, and a good enough friend. Besides, my latter days as
mistress of the house were not happy ones, and they spoilt the place for
me. It was a punishment for my faithlessness. Nic, you do forgive me?
Really you do?'

The twenty-third of December, the eve of the wedding-day, had arrived at
last in the train of such uneventful ones as these. Nicholas had
arranged to visit her that day a little later than usual, and see that
everything was ready with her for the morrow's event and her removal to
his house; for he had begun to look after her domestic affairs, and to
lighten as much as possible the duties of her housekeeping.

He was to come to an early supper, which she had arranged to take the
place of a wedding-breakfast next day--the latter not being feasible in
her present situation. An hour or so after dark the wife of the farmer
who lived in the other part of the house entered Christine's parlour to
lay the cloth.

'What with getting the ham skinned, and the black-puddings hotted up,'
she said, 'it will take me all my time before he's here, if I begin this
minute.'

'I'll lay the table myself,' said Christine, jumping up. 'Do you attend
to the cooking.'

'Thank you, ma'am. And perhaps 'tis no matter, seeing that it is the
last night you'll have to do such work. I knew this sort of life
wouldn't last long for 'ee, being born to better things.'

'It has lasted rather long, Mrs. Wake. A