e and go on
toward the future."

As she stood before the glass, gazing absently at the reflection of her
own face and repeating those thoughts aloud, her husband's voice called
her from the hall below.

"Bessie, come down--the horses are at the door."

She broke away from her reverie and hurried downstairs, where he met her
with a fond smile and a new pride in her unusual beauty.

"The very thought of the fresh air has done you good," he said.

"It is not that, Grantley--not that."

He looked at her tenderly, understanding all that her words meant.

"Because we are happy?" he whispered.

"With your love and confidence to bless my life I have all the happiness
I can ask," she said, earnestly.

He led her down the steps, seated her upon her horse, and they rode away
down the hill, and dashed out upon the pleasant road.

"We will go over the hills," Grantley said; "the air is so delightful
there, and one has such a magnificent view of the ocean."

"I believe you would be wretched away from the boisterous old sea," said
Elizabeth, laughing.

"I do love it; when I was a boy my one desire was to be a sailor. Some
time, Bessie, we will have a yacht and go cruising about to our heart's
content; after Elsie is married though, for she suffers so dreadfully
from fright and illness."

"It would be very pleasant, Grantley."

"Would it not? Just you and I alone; it would be like having a little
world all to ourselves. _Allons_, Bessie; here is a nice level place for
a gallop; wake Gipsy up."

They rode on swiftly, growing so light-hearted and joyous that they were
laughing and talking like a pair of happy children, seeming quite out of
reach of all the shadows which had darkened their hearts during the past
days.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

TRIFLES LIGHT AS AIR.

While Mellen and Elizabeth rode off through the golden afternoon, Elsie
and Tom Fuller came in from a stroll about the grounds. They had seen
the husband and wife galloping down the avenue, and as they entered the
hall, Elsie said:

"They have left us to amuse ourselves the best way we can; what shall we
do, Tom Fuller?"

"I'm ready for anything."

"We might go out rowing."

"Oh, Elsie!"

"Only Grant would be angry, and you have grown afraid of the water."

"No wonder, where you are concerned," cried Tom. "I can't think of that
dreadful day without a shudder."

"I don't allow myself to think of it at all," said Elsie.

She led the way into th