or. Grace was to be the guest of my cousin
and his wife until we heard from Lady Amelia Roscoe. I should sleep at
the hotel that night, and next day take possession of the best lodgings
Frank could procure for me in his little parish. It was also settled
that next day Sophie--for that was Mrs. Howe's Christian name--should
come to Penzance with Grace and purchase all that was immediately
needful in the shape of wearing apparel, and so on.

"I shall to-night," said I, "write to Mademoiselle Championet and
request her to send your boxes, Grace."

"Wait until you hear from Lady Amelia," said Frank. "She may quarrel
with mademoiselle and refuse to pay her, in which case mademoiselle
will have a lien upon the luggage and stick to it."

I laughed and exclaimed, "There is no hurry," and then after taking
Grace in my arms and straining her to my heart, as though we were about
to part for ever and ever, and after much cordial handshaking with
Frank and his wife, I accompanied the three of them downstairs, saw
them into the pony-carriage, and when they had driven off, returned to
write a letter to Lady Amelia Roscoe.

It is some years now since all this happened. I have no copy of that
letter, and my memory is not strong in points of this sort. I
recollect, however, after making several attempts, that I produced
something which was brief almost to abruptness, and that it satisfied
me as on the whole very well put, not wanting in a quality of what I
might term mild brutality, for this was an element I could not very
well manage without having regard to what I had to ask and to what I
had to tell. And let this reference to that letter suffice, though I
must add that I took care to enclose a copy of Captain Parsons'
certificate of our marriage, with the names of those who had signed it,
affirming that the marriage was good in point of law, as she might
easily assure herself by consulting her solicitors, and also
acquainting her in no doubtful terms that the wedding-ring was on
Grace's finger and that we regarded ourselves as husband and wife.

I had scarcely despatched this letter when Caudel was announced. He
stood in the doorway, cap in hand, knuckling his forehead and backing a
bit with a rolling gait, after the custom of the British merchant
sailor.

"Well, Mr. Barclay, sir, and how are ye again? And how's the young
lady after all these here traverses?"

I bade him sit down, pulled the bell for a glass of grog f