ared to lavish on thee all a husband's
love and care, never, never shalt thou have cause to regret this day! to
mourn thy faithful love was shown as it hath been--to weep the hour
that, in the midst of danger, and darkness, and woe, hath joined our
earthly fates, and made us one. And now," he continued, rising and
folding her once more in his arms, "wilt thou meet me at the altar ere
the truce concludes? 'tis but a brief while, a very brief while, my
love; yet if it can be, I know thou wilt not shrink."

"I will not," she answered. "The hour thou namest I will meet thee. Lady
Seaton," she added, slightly faltering, and the vivid blush rose to her
temples, "I would see her, speak with her; yet--"

"She shall come to thee, mine own, prepared to love and hail thee
sister, as she hath long done. She will not blame thee dearest; she
loves, hath loved too faithfully herself. Fear not, I will leave naught
for thee to tell that can bid that cheek glow as it doth now. She, too,
will bless thee for thy love."

He imprinted a fervent kiss on her cheek, and hastily left her. Agnes
remained standing as he had left her for several minutes, her hands
tightly clasped, her whole soul speaking in her beautiful features, and
then she sunk on her knees before a rudely-carved image of the Virgin
and child, and prayed long and fervently. She did not weep, her spirit
had been too painfully excited for such relief, but so wrapt was she in
devotion, she knew not that Lady Seaton, with a countenance beaming in
admiration and love, stood beside her, till she spoke.

"Rouse thee, my gentle one," she said, tenderly, as she twined her arm
caressingly around her; "I may not let thee linger longer even here, for
time passes only too quickly, and I shall have but little time to attire
my beautiful bride for the altar. Nigel hath been telling such a tale of
woman's love, that my good lord hath vowed, despite his weakness and his
wounds, none else shall lead thee to the altar, and give thee to my
brother, save himself. I knew that not even Nigel's influence would bid
thee leave us, dearest," she continued, as Agnes hid her face in her
bosom, "but I dreamed not such a spirit dwelt within this childlike
heart, sweet one; thy lot must surely be for joy!"

CHAPTER XX.

It was something past the hour of nine, when Agnes, leaning on the arm
of Sir Christopher Seaton, and followed by Lady Seaton and two young
girls, their attendants, entered the c