hey parted on the eve of their wedding day.

CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIFTH.

THE DAY.

THE promise of the weather-glass was fulfilled. The sun shone on
Blanche's marriage.

At nine in the morning the first of the proceedings of the day began. It
was essentially of a clandestine nature. The bride and bridegroom
evaded the restraints of lawful authority, and presumed to meet together
privately, before they were married, in the conservatory at Ham Farm.

"You have read my letter, Arnold?"

"I have come here to answer it, Blanche. But why not have told me? Why
write?"

"Because I put off telling you so long; and because I didn't know how
you might take it; and for fifty other reasons. Never mind! I've made my
confession. I haven't a single secret now which is not your secret too.
There's time to say No, Arnold, if you think I ought to have no room
in my heart for any body but you. My uncle tells me I am obstinate and
wrong in refusing to give Anne up. If you agree with him, say the word,
dear, before you make me your wife."

"Shall I tell you what I said to Sir Patrick last night?"

"About _this?_"

"Yes. The confession (as you call it) which you make in your pretty
note, is the very thing that Sir Patrick spoke to me about in the
dining-room before I went away. He told me your heart was set on finding
Miss Silvester. And he asked me what I meant to do about it when we were
married."

"And you said--?"

Arnold repeated his answer to Sir Patrick, with fervid embellishments
of the original language, suitable to the emergency. Blanche's delight
expressed itself in the form of two unblushing outrages on propriety,
committed in close succession. She threw her arms round Arnold's neck;
and she actually kissed him three hours before the consent of State and
Church sanctioned her in taking that proceeding. Let us shudder--but let
us not blame her. These are the consequences of free institutions.

"Now," said Arnold, "it's my turn to take to pen and ink. I have a
letter to write before we are married as well as you. Only there's this
difference between us--I want you to help me."

"Who are you going to write to?"

"To my lawyer in Edinburgh. There will be no time unless I do it now. We
start for Switzerland this afternoon--don't we?'

"Yes."

"Very well. I want to relieve your mind, my darling before we go.
Wouldn't you like to know--while we are away--that the right people are
on the look-out for Miss Silvester?