rward with her graceful swing and
held out her hand, first to Derrick and then, after a momentary pause,
to Celia; her hand was grasped warmly by both. An excited interchange of
talk ensued; and presently, in the midst of it, Derrick felt a hand on
his arm, and Sidcup, to whom he had spoken already, signed to him.
Derrick went out of the tent with him.

"I can't tell you how glad I am to see you, Sidcup," he began; but
Sidcup interrupted him with a nod and a smile.

"I wanted to get you away for a moment, to tell you that it's--all
right," said Sidcup, colouring a little and looking just a trifle
embarrassed, and yet with a tone of pride in his voice. "Isabel and I
have fixed it up. Yes; we were spliced before we left South America.
It's all right, old boy! Congratulate me!"

Derrick shook his hand until Sidcup winced, and they both laughed like a
couple of boys.

"Congratulate you! I should think I do!" said Derrick. "I wish you could
have heard my wife just now, expressing her admiration for yours. She is
more beautiful than ever."

"Oh, well," said Sidcup, with a modest pride; "come to that, you've got
a beauty too. Tell you what, Green, we're both of us deuced lucky men."

"You never spoke a truer word in your life," said Derrick; "and you, at
any rate, deserve your luck."

They returned to the tent, talking as they went; and there, lo and
behold! they found the future Marchioness of Sutcombe the centre of a
laughing and talking group, the hearts of all of which she had conquered
at first sight. For, consider: she was now a future Marchioness, but not
long since she had been Celia Grant, living on a pound a week in Brown's
Buildings--as she told them. Derrick tore her away at last, leaving the
circus company ignorant of the exalted position of their guests; but,
half an hour afterwards, they were astounded beyond words to receive an
invitation to dine next night at Thexford Hall; an invitation from
Sydney Green and his wife, otherwise, Lord and Lady Heyton.

That dinner is marked with a white stone in the history of Derrick and
Celia.

* * * * *

One is reluctant to strike a discordant note, a note of squalid tragedy,
in the harmony to which the lives of Celia and Derrick moved; but this
record would not be complete without an account of the ending of the man
who was known as Lord Heyton. Such an ending as his was inevitable. He
died in a drunken brawl in a Chinese doss-hou