ee with me, Coralie?" asked my unsuspecting sister.

"Certainly; there is no position in the county equal to that of Lady
Trevelyan of Crown Anstey."

"How strange it is, Edgar, that you should be married, and your wife
Lady Trevelyan! Sometimes it seems to me all a dream."

"Dreams come and go so lightly," said Coralie, with that smile which
always made me slightly afraid.

The remainder of that day we spent in making out a long list of all
things needful. Coralie's taste was paramount. She decided upon little
matters of elegance we never even thought of. It was she who strongly
advised me to send to London for Mr. Dickson, the well-known decorator.

"He will arrange a suite of rooms so perfectly that you will hardly know
them," she said.

So it was decided. Mr. Dickson came, and when he found there was to be
no limit either to time, expense, money, or anything else, he promised
me something that should make Crown Anstey famous. All things went on
perfectly. The magnificent preparations making for my darling occupied
my time most happily. It was now almost the end of November, and our
marriage was to take place on the 26th of December. Mr. Dickson and his
army of workmen had taken their departure, and the rooms prepared for my
wife were beyond all praise.

The boudoir was hung in blue and silver; it was a perfect little
fairyland; nothing was wanting to make it a nest of luxury. The boudoir
opened into a pretty little library, where all the books that I thought
would please Agatha were arranged. There was a dressing-room, a
bath-room and a sleeping-room, all en suite. Mr. Dickson had improvised
a pretty flight of stairs leading into a small conservatory, and that
opened into the garden.

When the pictures, the flowers, the statues, the rich hangings and the
graceful ornaments were all arranged, I was more pleased than I had been
for some time. Lady Thesiger came over to look at them, but my darling
was not to see them until they were her own.

There was an unpleasant duty to perform. What was to be done with
Coralie? Knowing Lady Thesiger's opinion of her, I felt sure she would
never allow her daughter to live in the same house. What was to be done
with her? Where was she to go? I did not know in the least what to
suggest. I was perfectly willing to offer her a very handsome allowance,
knowing that, as Sir Barnard's charge, she had some claim on me.

I might have spared myself all the trouble of thinking and