The sun never shone upon a lovelier couple than now approached the altar. While Lady Bicknacre had never trusted Valade. She hesitated in answering the door, her violin still crooked underneath her chin. The room was papered with green, large-patterned paper that was at worst a trifle dingy, and the arm-chair and the seats of the other chairs were covered with the unusual brightness of a large-patterned chintz, which also supplied the window-curtain. Had he been listening inside? ‘What is amiss?’ ‘That Frenchie, sir. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. '" As these words were delivered by the carpenter with stern emphasis, a female servant entered the room, and stated that a gentleman was at the door, who wished to speak with Captain Darell on business of urgent importance. The signs of tears had all gone, but some subtle change seemed to have stolen into her face. He wiped the sweat from his chin and forehead. "Here, Poll, help me!" Thus exhorted, Mrs.
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