dent in her praises of Tyrrel Rawdon,
but--and there is always a but--she wondered if Ethel had "noticed what
a quick temper he had."

"Oh, yes," answered Ethel, "I should not like him not to have a quick
temper. I expect my husband to stand up at a moment's notice for either
mine or his own rights or opinions."

And in the afternoon when all preliminaries had been settled and
approved, Judge Rawdon expressed himself in the same manner to Ruth.
"Yes," he said, in reply to her timid suggestion of temper, "you
can strike fire anywhere with him if you try it, but he has it under
control. Besides, Ethel is just as quick to flame up. It will be Rawdon
against Rawdon, and Ethel's weapons are of finer, keener steel than
Tyrrel's. Ethel will hold her own. It is best so."

"How did the Squire feel about such a marriage?"

"He was quite overcome with delight. Nothing was said to Tyrrel about
Ethel having bought the reversion of Rawdon Manor, for things have been
harder to get into proper shape than I thought they would be, and it may
be another month before all is finally settled; but the Squire has the
secret satisfaction, and he was much affected by the certainty of a
Rawdon at Rawdon Court after him. He declined to think of it in any
other way but 'providential,' and of course I let him take all the
satisfaction he could out of the idea. Ever since he heard of the
engagement he has been at the organ singing the One Hundred and Third
Psalm."

"He is the dearest and noblest of men. How soon shall we go home now?"

"In about a month. Are you tired of England?"

"I shall be glad to see America again. There was a letter from Dora this
morning. They sail on the twenty-third."

"Do you know anything of Mostyn?"

"Since he wrote us a polite farewell we have heard nothing."

"Do you think he went to America?"

"I cannot tell. When he bid us good-by he made no statement as to his
destination; he merely said 'he was leaving England on business.'"

"Well, Ruth, we shall sail as soon as I am satisfied all is right. There
is a little delay about some leases and other matters. In the meantime
the lovers are in Paradise wherever we locate them."

And in Paradise they dwelt for another four weeks. The ancient garden
had doubtless many a dream of love to keep, but none sweeter or truer
than the idyl of Tyrrel and Ethel Rawdon. They were never weary of
rehearsing it; every incident of its growth had been charming and
romantic, an