king very hard," he replied, "and my work will bring
forth good fruit; but, father, I have found leisure for love as well."

"So it seems," said the earl, dryly; "perhaps you will tell me who this
lady is, and why she comes home with you?"

"My wife; her name was Leone Noel; she is now Lady Chandos."

For the first time Leone spoke.

"I am a farmer's niece, my lord," she said, simply.

Her voice had a ring of music in it so sweet that it struck the earl
with wonder.

"A farmer's niece," he replied. "You will forgive me for saying that a
farmer's niece can be no fitting wife for my son."

"I love him, my lord, very dearly, and I will try hard to be all that he
can wish me to be."

"Bravely spoken; but it is quite in vain; my lady would never hear of
such a thing--I dare not--I cannot sanction it, even by a word, my lady
would never forgive me. Can you tell me when this rash action was
accomplished?"

"This is our wedding-day, father," cried Lord Chandos. "Only think of
it, our wedding-day, and you receive us like this. How cruel and cold."

"Nay, I am neither," said the earl; "it is rather you, Lance, who do not
seem to realize what you have done. You seem to think you belong to
yourself; you are mistaken; a man in your position belongs to his
country, his race, to his family, not to himself; that view of the
question, probably, did not strike you."

"No," replied Lord Chandos, "it certainly did not; but, father, if I
have done wrong, forgive me."

"I do forgive you, my dear boy, freely; young men will be foolish--I
forgive you; but do not ask me to sanction your marriage or receive your
wife. I cannot do it."

"Then, of what use is your forgiveness? Oh, father, I did not expect
this from you; you have always been so kind to me. I had fancied
difficulties with my mother, but none with you."

"My dear Lance, we had better send for my lady; she is really, as you
know, the dominant spirit of our family. She will decide on what is to
be done."

"I insist on my wife being treated with due respect," raged the young
lord.

"My dear Lance, you must do as you will; I refuse to recognize this lady
in any way. Will you tell me when and where you were married?"

"Certainly: this morning, by the Reverend Mr. Barnes, at the Church of
St. Barnabas, in Oheton, a little village twenty miles from Rashleigh.
The marriage was all _en regle_; we had the bans published and witnesses
present."

"You took great pains to