u are dearer, sweeter,
lovelier than any little girl in Gower-street or anywhere else in the
whole wide world."

"And you forgive me for my foolishness?"

"My darling," he said, "your foolishness was nothing to my own. And if
you can bear to tie yourself to a blind man, so many years older than
yourself, who has proved himself the most arrogant and conceited fool
alive----"

"Hush!" said Kitty. "I shall not allow you to speak in that way--of the
man I love."

"Kiss me, then, for the first time in your life, Kitty, and I will say
no more."

And so they married and went down to Vivian Court in Devonshire, where
they live and flourish still, the happiest of the happy. Never more
happy than when Brian and Elizabeth came to spend a week with them,
bringing a pair of sturdy boys--Bernard and Richard they are called--to
play with Kitty's little girl upon the velvet lawns and stately terraces
of Vivian Court. Kitty is already making plans for the future union of
Bernard Luttrell and her own little Angela; but her husband shakes his
head, and laughingly tells her that planned marriages never come to
good.

"I thought all marriages had to be planned," says Kitty, innocently.

"Mine was not."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I was led into it--quite against my will, madam--by a
tricksy, wilful sprite, who would have her own way----"

"Say that you have not repented it, Rupert," she whispers, looking up at
him with the fond, sorrowful eyes that he cannot see.

"My own love," he answers, taking her in his arms and kissing her, "you
make the sunshine of my life; and as long as you are near me I am
thoroughly and unspeakably content."

Kitty knows that it is true, although she weeps sometimes in secret at
the thought that he will never look upon his little daughter's face. But
everyone says that the tiny Angela is the image of Kitty herself as a
child; and, therefore, when the mother wishes to describe the winning
face and dancing eyes, she tells Rupert that he has only to picture to
himself once more--"the little girl that he used to know in Gower
Street."

CHAPTER LII.

"THE END CROWNS ALL, AND THAT IS YET TO COME."

And what of Angela Vivian, the elder? Angela, whose heart was said to be
buried in a grave?

After Hugo Luttrell's death, she remained for some time at Netherglen,
sitting a great deal in Mrs. Luttrell's room and trying to resume the
daughter-like ways which had grown so natural to her.