issed her
on the lips. "It is settled--you are to be my wife."

His domination seemed to hypnotise her. "Yes, I will do my best to make
you a perfect wife, dear," she murmured, as if bowing to his
irresistible will.

He held her hands tighter, and looked into her face as if proudly. She
met his look with glistening eyes: she was deathly pale now, and her
lips, too, were colourless. Then abruptly she drew her hands from him,
and, as if impelled on some tide of womanhood that rose in high music
above all hesitations, above the fluttering timidity of her whole life,
she threw her arms round his neck, and kissed his lips with a long
abandonment.

"I am now almost afraid of your sister," she whispered presently. "I
shall feel on my trial."

"But she has fallen in love with you already," he reassured her again.
"And Mary is the sweetest and gentlest soul in the world."

"I know I shall love her," she said. Her head hung down a moment in
meditation. "But let us continue the work now, dear. I know you wish to
have it finished to-day."

But he had little now to add to it, and he had made his last stroke
before the dusk of the afternoon overtook him.

XIV

Wyndham's career as an engaged man began amid a radiance of enthusiasm.
When his prospective mother-in-law arrived for the tea-party, she was
enchanted at the news, declaring, after the first joyous surprise, that
it was the wish that lay nearest to the hearts of herself and her
husband. And, presently, when Mary appeared, and was introduced not only
to "the original of the portrait she had so admired," but also to "a
very sweet Alice" who was to be her sister, "I guessed it," she broke
out, kissing Miss Robinson impulsively. "I am so delighted."

Heigh, presto! In a trice the three women were chatting away like a
group of old neighbours! Wyndham became discreetly busy with tea-things.

Of course the Robinsons insisted on Mary's dining with them, and so
there was a happy little reunion in the evening. Mr. Robinson thrilled
visibly with the honour of having Mary at his board, and he
congratulated Wyndham with pathetic cordiality, his voice husky with
emotion, his eyes streaming with tears.

Such was the auspicious beginning. But the universe seemed to vibrate to
white heat as a wider population entered into the jubilation. Mary was
the first to spread the news, her letters reaching the Hertfordshire
circle express. In the twinkling of an eye, as it appeared