isfied her, for a look of contentment came into
her eyes.

As soon as possible I consulted the old family lawyer, and together we
discussed the affairs of the estate. They were quite as bad as Wilfred
had declared. Everything he could turn into money he had sold or
mortgaged, until there was scarcely any unencumbered property; but the
lawyer told me that, with care and economy, I might in a few years
replace what Wilfred had so extravagantly wasted.

I also visited my sisters, and found them delighted beyond measure at
seeing their brother again, and looking forward with joyful
anticipations to welcoming their new sister.

Altogether my life was very happy, and as I constantly rode over to
Morton Hall to see the sweet woman who had promised to be my wife, and
watched the gladsome smile that lit up her face whenever she saw me
coming, my cup of joy was full.

A month later we were wedded in the old church, from which I had
carried her more than a year before.

When I entered the gloomy building, I almost felt like shuddering, so
awful were its associations, and when I saw the clergyman take his
stand near the very spot from which I had turned back the stone, to
enter the resting-place of the dead, I could not help picturing what I
had then seen. I think Ruth must have felt it too, for her hand
trembled in mine. Perchance she thought of the awful doom from which,
by the mercy of God, I had rescued her; but when I heard the old
clergyman pronounce us man and wife, and then repeat in solemn tones
the words that were full of meaning to me, "whom God hath joined
together let no man put asunder," my heart thrilled with a new joy, for
I felt I possessed the greatest blessing on earth.

And then as the bells pealed out, while with Ruth on my arm we
traversed the long nave, it seemed as though the angels of God were
there to smile on our wedding morn.

And what of Ruth? In her great happiness, she could scarcely grieve
for the long years of pain, and as she nestled nearer to me, on our way
back to the Hall, she whispered that no joy could be as great as ours,
because for years we had both despaired of ever meeting each other
again.

At the wedding festivities, my mother sat, pale and sad, perchance
thinking of Wilfred, of whom we had heard nothing since the night he
had been disappointed of his hopes. As soon as they were over, we went
back to Trewinion, which we both decided should be our home.

I shall never f