y long times, will you, dear?"

"Never, my sweet. I thought of asking the Duke, if you would wish it, to
let me take the place from him in this county, which eventually comes to
you, and I will keep on Thorpmoor, my house in Lincolnshire, merely for
the shooting. Then you would feel you were always in your own home, and
perhaps the Duke would spend much time with us, and we could come to him
here, in an hour; but all this is merely a suggestion--everything shall
be as you wish."

"Francis, you are good to me," she said.

"Darling," he whispered, as he kissed her hair, "it took me forty-six
years to find my pearl of price."

Then they settled all kinds of other details: how he would give Zara,
for her own, the house in Park Lane, which would not be big enough now
for them; and he would purchase one of those historic mansions, looking
on The Green Park, which he knew was soon to be in the market.
Ethelrida, if she left the ducal roof for the sake of his love, should
find a palace worthy of her acceptance waiting for her.

He had completely recovered his balance, upset a little the night before
by the uncomfortable momentary fear about his niece.

She and Tristram had arranged to come up to Park Lane for two nights
again at the end of the week, to say good-bye to the Dowager Lady
Tancred, who was starting with her daughters for Cannes. If he should
see then that things were still amiss, he would tell Tristram the whole
history of what Zara had thought of him. Perhaps that might throw some
light on her conduct towards him, and so things could be cleared up. But
he pinned his whole faith on youth and propinquity to arrange matters
before then, and dismissed it from his mind.

Meanwhile, the pair in question were speeding along to Wrayth.

Of all the ordeals of the hours which Tristram had had to endure since
his wedding, these occasions, upon which he had to sit close beside her
in a motor, were the worst. An ordinary young man, not in love with her,
would have found something intoxicating in her atmosphere--and how much
more this poor Tristram, who was passionately obsessed.

Fortunately, she liked plenty of window open and did not object to
smoke; but with the new air of meekness which was on her face and the
adorably attractive personal scent of the creature, nearly two hours
with her, under a sable rug, was no laughing matter.

At the end of the first half hour of silence and nearness, her husband
found he was