ngry ache at her heart, when Hugh had gone. It had seemed
to her then that never could that ache be stilled, until she could once
again clasp his head to her breast. She knew now that it never had
been stilled. Dulled, ignored, denied; called by other names; but
stilled--never.

On this night it was as sweetly poignant as on that other night eight
years ago, when she had slowly descended to this very room, from the
moonlit battlements.

Yet to-night she was maid _and_ wife. Moreover Hugh was here, under
this very roof. Yet had he bidden her a grave good-night, without so
much as touching her hand. Yet his dark eyes had said: "I love thee."

Kneeling at the casement, Mora reviewed the days since they rode forth
from Warwick.

It had been a wondrous experience for her--she, who had been Prioress
of the White Ladies--thus to ride out into the radiant, sunny world.

Hugh was ever beside her, watchful, tender, shielding her from any
possible pain or danger, yet claiming nothing, asking nothing, for
himself.

One night, not being assured of the safety of the place where they
lodged, she found afterwards that he had lain all night across the
threshold of the chamber within which she and Debbie slept.

Another night she saw him pacing softly up and down beneath her window.

Yet when each morning came, and they began a new day together, he
greeted her gaily, with clear eye and unclouded brow; not as one
chilled or disappointed, or vexed to be kept from his due.

And oh, the wonder of each new day! The glory of those rides over the
mossy softness of the woodland paths, where the sunlight fell, in
dancing patches, through the thick, moving foliage, and shy deer peeped
from the bracken, with soft eyes and gentle movements; out on to the
wild liberty of the moors, where Icon, snuffing the fresher air, would
stretch his neck and gallop for pure joy at having left cobbled streets
and paved courtyards far behind him. And ever they rode northward, and
home drew nearer. Looking back upon those long hours spent alone
together, Mora realised how simply and easily she had grown used to
being with Hugh, and how entirely this was due to his unselfishness and
tact. He talked with her constantly; yet never of his own feelings
regarding her.

He told her of his adventures in Eastern lands; of the happenings in
England during the past eight years, so far as he had been able to
learn them; of his home and property; of hers, a