--no! The bride of to-morrow was surely, surely, not
herself!

They were to spend the first part of their honeymoon at a little
place on the Cornish coast, very far from everywhere, as Sir Eustace
said. She thought of that little place with a vague wonder. It was the
stepping-stone between the life she now knew and that new unknown life
that awaited her. She would go there just Dinah--work-a-day Dinah--her
own ordinary self. She would leave a fortnight after, possibly less, a
totally different being--a married woman, Lady Studley, part and parcel
of Sir Eustace's train, his most intimate belonging, most exclusively his
own.

She trembled afresh as this thought came home to her. Despite his
assurances, marriage seemed to her a terrible thing. It was like parting,
not only with the old life, but with herself.

She dressed mechanically, scarcely thinking of her appearance, roused
only at length from her pre-occupation by the tread of hoofs under her
window. She leaned forth quickly and discerned Scott on horseback,--a
trim, upright figure, very confident in the saddle--and with him Billy
still mounted on Rupert and evidently in the highest spirits.

The latter spied her at once and accosted her in his cracked, cheerful
voice. "Hi, Dinah! Come down! We're going to tea at the Court. Scott will
walk with you, and I'm going to ride his gee."

He rolled off Rupert with the words. Scott looked up at her, faintly
smiling as he lifted his hat. "I hope that plan will suit you," he said.
"The fact is the padre has been detained and can't get here before
tea-time. So we thought--Eustace thought--you wouldn't mind coming up to
the Court to tea instead of waiting to see him here."

It crossed her mind to wonder why Eustace had not come himself to fetch
her, but she was conscious of a deep, unreasoning thankfulness that he
had not. Then, before she could reply, she heard her father's voice in
the porch, inviting Scott to enter.

Scott accepted the invitation, and Dinah turned back into the room to
prepare for the walk.

Her hands were trembling so much that they could scarcely serve her. She
was in a state of violent and uncontrollable agitation, longing one
moment to be gone, and the next desiring desperately to remain where she
was. The thought of facing the crowd at the Court filled her with a
positive tumult of apprehension, but breathlessly she kept telling
herself that Scott would be there--Scott would be there. His shelt