Place, and was shown up into the
great drawing-room. In a minute or two Lady Betty came tripping in. A
glance showed she was ready to go out at once; her simple coat and skirt
formed a costume unobtrusive enough for any expedition, and her hat and
veil matched the occasion to a nicety.

She was radiant with an unaffected gaiety; he could hardly conceive the
weight of sadness that must lie at the bottom of her heart.

"We shall have a happy day," she said, smiling at the thought of it;
"something to remember always."

He was quick to grasp her spirit. They were to have this happiness as if
the day were one of many days, some past, more to come. They were to
give themselves up to the joy of each other's companionship in simple
acceptance of the passing hour; not dilating on the occasion as a
parting; not letting it be overshadowed by the sense of what they had so
tragically missed in life. Parting there would be; and then sadness
would descend swiftly enough. Till that bitter moment--sparkle and
enjoyment! He had come prepared to talk much of themselves; but he saw
she was wiser than he, and at once fell in with her mood. There would be
all the rest of his life to lament in.

"Have you thought of any plan?" he asked.

"None," she replied. "To tell the truth, I rather shrank from anything
definite. 'The wind bloweth as it listeth.' Let us go on without end or
purpose. That seems to me the ideal way."

"But we are bound to make a beginning. After that the game may play
itself."

"Let us get away from the London we know; let us go to a romantic,
wonderful London that we have never seen." She was almost echoing his
thought. "We shall glide discreetly among the crowds as if we belonged
to them."

"Then away!" he laughed. "To horse--or rather, to omnibus! Or is it to
be hansom?"

"Everything in turn, and nothing long."

It was a cold day, yet though the sky was lightly clouded, the air was
free from mist. As they stepped into the street a few patches of blue
were visible, and a wintry sunshine filtered down with a pleasant sense
of promise. The neighbouring houses were for the most part shuttered and
silent, but the outlook on the great triangular space before them was
cheerfully busy.

"How unlike the scene of your painting!" she exclaimed. "There is no
suggestion of drama here, but just the average feeling of the London
thoroughfare--busy people going their way, and a procession of omnibuses
mixed up with cart