the duties of the present in piecing together the broken
reflections of the past in the pools of memory until they had lived both
their lives over again together, from earliest recollection to the time
when the two streams flowed into one, thenceforth to mingle more and
more inwardly to endless ages.

So the Psyche was launched: Lady Clementina, Florimel and Lenorme were
the passengers, and Malcolm, Blue Peter and Davy the crew. There was no
room for servants, yet was there no lack of service. They had rough
weather a part of the time, and neither Clementina nor Lenorme was
altogether comfortable, but they made a rapid voyage, and were all well
when they landed at Greenwich.

Knowing nothing of Lady Bellair's proceedings, they sent Davy to
reconnoitre in Portland Place. He brought back word that there was no
one in the house but an old woman. So Malcolm took Florimel there.
Everything belonging to their late visitors had vanished, and nobody
knew where they had gone.

Searching the drawers and cabinets, Malcolm, to his unspeakable delight,
found a miniature of his mother, along with one of his father--a younger
likeness than he had yet seen. Also he found a few letters of his
mother--mostly mere notes in pencil--but neither these nor those of his
father which Miss Horn had given him would he read. "What right has life
over the secrets of death?" he said. "Or, rather, what right have we who
sleep over the secrets of those who have waked from their sleep and left
the fragments of their dreams behind them?" Lovingly he laid them
together and burned them to dust-flakes. "My mother shall tell me what
she pleases when I find her," he said. "She shall not reprove me for
reading her letters to my father."

They were married at Wastbeach, both couples in the same ceremony.
Immediately after the wedding the painter and his bride set out for
Rome, and the marquis and marchioness went on board the Psyche. For
nothing would content Clementina, troubled at the experience of her
first voyage, but she must get herself accustomed to the sea, as became
the wife of a fisherman: therefore in no way would she journey but on
board the Psyche; and as it was the desire of each to begin their
married life at home, they sailed direct for Portlossie. After a good
voyage, however, they landed, in order to reach home quietly, at Duff
Harbor, took horses from there, and arrived at Lossie House late in the
evening.

Malcolm had written to the