y drawing water in sieves from fathomless wells.

CHAPTER XLIX.

Algitha's marriage took place almost immediately. There was no reason
for delay. She stayed at the Cottage, and was married at Craddock
Church, on one of the loveliest mornings of the year, as the villagers
noticed with satisfaction. Both sisters had become favourites in the
neighbourhood among the poorer people, and the inhabitants mustered to
see the wedding.

It was only for her mother's sake that Algitha had consented to a
conventional ceremony. She said that she and Wilfrid both hated the
whole barbaric show. They submitted only because there was no help for
it. Algitha's mother would have broken her heart if they had been bound
merely by the legal tie, as she and Wilfrid desired.

"Indeed, the only tie that we respect is that of our love and faith. If
that failed, we should scorn to hold one another in unwilling bondage.
We are not entirely without self-respect."

The couple were to take a tour in Italy, where they hoped to meet
Valeria and Professor Fortescue. Joseph Fleming was married, almost at
the same time, to his merry Irish girl.

The winter came suddenly. Some terrific gales had robbed the trees of
their lingering yellow leaves, and the bare branches already shewed
their exquisite tracery against the sky. Heavy rain followed, and the
river was swollen, and there were floods that made the whole country
damp, and rank, and terribly depressing. Mrs. Fullerton felt the
influence of the weather, and complained of neuralgia and other
ailments. She needed watching very carefully, and plenty of cheerful
companionship. This was hard to supply. In struggling to belie her
feelings, day after day, Hadria feared, at times, that she would break
down disastrously. She was frightened at the strange haunting ideas that
came to her, the dread and nameless horror that began to prey upon her,
try as she would to protect herself from these nerve-torments, which she
could trace so clearly to their causes. If only, instead of making one
half insane and stupid, the strain of grief would but kill one outright,
and be done with it!

Old Dodge was a good friend to Hadria, at this time. He saw that
something was seriously wrong, and he managed to convey his affectionate
concern in a thousand little kindly ways that brought comfort to her
loneliness, and often filled her eyes with sudden tears. Nor was he the
only friend she had in the village, whose sym