rfervid women are endowed with, the courage
of their emotions, in which young men are often lamentably deficient. Her
fear was, in truth, the fear of being discovered in an unwonted position;
not of the act itself. And though her letter was in its way a true
exposition of her feeling, had it been necessary to go through the whole
legal process over again she would have been found equal to the
emergency.

It had been for some days a point of anxiety with her what to do with
Green during the morning of the wedding. Chance unexpectedly helped her
in this difficulty. The day before the purchase of the license Green
came to Lady Constantine with a letter in her hand from her husband
Anthony, her face as long as a fiddle.

'I hope there's nothing the matter?' said Lady Constantine.

'The child's took bad, my lady!' said Mrs. Green, with suspended floods
of water in her eyes. 'I love the child better than I shall love all
them that's coming put together; for he's been a good boy to his mother
ever since twelve weeks afore he was born! 'Twas he, a tender deary,
that made Anthony marry me, and thereby turned hisself from a little
calamity to a little blessing! For, as you know, the man were a backward
man in the church part o' matrimony, my lady; though he'll do anything
when he's forced a bit by his manly feelings. And now to lose the
child--hoo-hoo-hoo! What shall I doo!'

'Well, you want to go home at once, I suppose?'

Mrs. Green explained, between her sobs, that such was her desire; and
though this was a day or two sooner than her mistress had wished to be
left alone she consented to Green's departure. So during the afternoon
her woman went off, with directions to prepare for Lady Constantine's
return in two or three days. But as the exact day of her return was
uncertain no carriage was to be sent to the station to meet her, her
intention being to hire one from the hotel.

Lady Constantine was now left in utter solitude to await her lover's
arrival.

XVIII

A more beautiful October morning than that of the next day never beamed
into the Welland valleys. The yearly dissolution of leafage was setting
in apace. The foliage of the park trees rapidly resolved itself into the
multitude of complexions which mark the subtle grades of decay,
reflecting wet lights of such innumerable hues that it was a wonder to
think their beauties only a repetition of scenes that had been exhibited
there on scores of pr