contentment, and this was the absence
of the much-wished-for heir, for Gabrielle presented no children to her
husband; and our little Ella, a fairy child, of brilliant gifts and
almost superhuman loveliness, became as necessary to Lord Treherne's
happiness as she was to her doting mother's. It was settled ere we
returned to England, that Ella was to drop the name of Erminstoun, and
as Lord Treherne's acknowledged heiress, legal forms were to be
immediately adopted in order to ratify the change of name to that of the
family appellation of the Trehernes.

With a murmur of grateful feeling I saw Gabrielle kneel beside her aged
husband, and thank him fondly for this proof of regard; triumph sparkled
in her eyes, and Lord Treherne laid his hand on her fair head, blessing
her as he did so. She had made him a good wife, in every sense of the
term: he had never forgot that her blood equaled his own. But Gabrielle
did, for that very reason; her gratitude made her humble toward him,
because he was humble toward her: nor did Lord Treherne ever cease to
think that Gabrielle had conferred a favor in marrying him.

A succession of _fetes_ and entertainments were given at Treherne Abbey
after our return, and Gabrielle was the star on whom all gazed with
delighted admiration. All the country families flocked to pay their
homage, but the Erminstouns came not until Lady Treherne extended a hand
of welcome to her first husband's family; she was too exalted, both in
station and mind, to cherish the pitiful remembrances of their former
unkindness. There were but two Misses Erminstoun now, the others were
well married (according to the world's notion, that is); and the
youngest, who had not given up hopes of yet becoming Mrs. Dacre, had
transformed herself into a nun-like damsel, something between a Sister
of Charity and a Quakeress in exterior: perhaps Mr. Dacre read the
interior too well; and, notwithstanding the lady's assiduous visits to
the poor, and attendance on the charity-schools, and regular loud
devotions at church, Mr. Dacre remained obdurate and wedded to celibacy.
It might be that he disapproved of the marriage of the clergy, but I
think he was at one time vulnerable on that point.

How delighted I was to see him once more, to hear him call me his "wise
little friend," with his former sweet smile and affectionate manner; six
years had changed him--he looked rather careworn, and well he might, for
he was a true worker in the