failed to find any reason for it. He had said
that she was--beautiful. Oh, no--no! He must have met a hundred women
prettier than she was; but he had chosen her. How strange! how
wonderful! Sleep came to her at last, but it was a sleep broken by
dreams--dreams in which Drake--she could think of him as "Drake"--held
her in his arms and murmured his love. She could feel his kisses on her
lips, her hair. Once the dream turned and twisted somewhat, and he and
she seemed separated--a vague something came between them, an intangible
mist or cloud which neither could pass, though they stood with
outstretched hands and yearning hearts; but this dream passed, and she
slept the sleep of joy and peaceful happiness.

Happiness! It is given to so few to know happiness that one would like
to linger over the days which followed their betrothal. For every day
was an idyl. Drake had resolved to send the horses up to London for
sale; he had given Sparling notice, six months' wages, and a character
which would insure him a good place; but he clung to the horses, and
Nell and Dick and he had some famous rides before the nags went to
Tattersall's.

And what rides they were! Dick, wise beyond his years, would lag behind
or canter a long way in front; and Nell and Drake would be left alone to
whisper together, or clasp hands in silent ecstasy.

And there was the _Annie Laurie_. To sail before the wind, with the sun
shining brightly from the blue sky upon the opal sea; to hold his
beloved in his arms; to feel the warmth of her lips on his; to know that
in a few short weeks she would be his own, his wife!--the rapture of it
made him catch his breath and fall into a rapt silence.

One day, as they were sailing homeward, the _Annie Laurie_ speeding on a
flowing tide and a favorable breeze, his longing became almost
insupportable.

"See here, Nell," he said, with the timidity of the man whose every
pulse is throbbing with passion, "why--why shouldn't we be married at
once? I mean, what is the use of waiting?"

"Married!"

She drew away from him and caught her breath.

"Why not?" he asked. "I shan't be any the richer for waiting, and--and I
want you very badly."

"But I am here--you have got me," she said, with all the innocence of a
child. "Oh, why should we hurry?"

He bit his pipe hard.

"I know," he said, rather huskily. "But I want you altogether--for my
very own. I don't want to have to part with you at the gate of The
Cottage