story.

"There was a fine coil when Sir Richard brought the news, and I was
rated more soundly than I have been since I was a little lad and
lost my father's best falcon through letting it loose when the
falconer was not by to whistle it back. There has been a mighty
talking and arguing as to whether such wedlock as ours be lawful,
and no man seems rightly to know. That we must be wed again in more
orderly fashion all agree, if we are to live together as man and
wife; but none will dare to say that we may break the pledge we
gave each to the other that day. My father talked at first of
moving some high court to set us free; but my mother shook her head
and said that vows so solemnly spoken before God and in His name
might never rightly be annulled by man. She was grieved and as
angered as she knows how to be at our hot-headed rashness, and
spoke to me words which hurt me more than my father's ratings. Yet
she holds steadfastly to this--that we are betrothed too firmly to
be parted; and what she holds she can generally make my father
hold, for he thinks much of her piety and true discernment."

"So that thou art out of thy trouble for the nonce?"

Culverhouse laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"I say not that, for they tell us it will be many years ere we can
hope to be wed again in due form; and waiting is weary work."

"And why should you wait?"

Culverhouse laughed again.

"That is soon answered. My father has always told me that I must
wed a lady of wealth if I am to wed young. Our estates are
encumbered. We have more state to keep up than we well know how to
manage. We have had troubles and losses even as the Trevlyns have.
I have known this well. I cannot complain of my father.
Nevertheless I chose my Kate without any dowry before all the world
beside, and I am prepared to abide by my choice. But we shall have
to wait; we shall have to possess our souls in patience. They all
tell us that; and I gainsay them not. I am young. I have friends in
high places. I will win a name for myself, and a fortune too, ere
my head be gray. Alas for the old days of chivalry, when men might
ride forth to fame and glory, and win both that and wealth in a few
short years! Those bright days are gone for ever. Still methinks I
will conquer fate yet!"

Culverhouse looked as though fitted indeed for some career of
chivalrous daring. He and Cuthbert would gladly have ridden forth
together upon some knightly quest; but the days