'How ill-omened!' murmured Viviette.

But the parson came out robed at this moment, and the clerk put on his

ecclesiastical countenance and looked in his book. Lady Constantine's

momentary languor passed; her blood resumed its courses with a new

spring. The grave utterances of the church then rolled out upon the

palpitating pair, and no couple ever joined their whispers thereto with

more fervency than they.

Lady Constantine (as she continued to be called by the outside world,

though she liked to think herself the Mrs. St. Cleeve that she legally

was) had told Green that she might be expected at Welland in a day, or

two, or three, as circumstances should dictate. Though the time of

return was thus left open it was deemed advisable, by both Swithin and

herself, that her journey back should not be deferred after the next day,

in case any suspicions might be aroused. As for St. Cleeve, his comings

and goings were of no consequence. It was seldom known whether he was at

home or abroad, by reason of his frequent seclusion at the column.

Late in the afternoon of the next day he accompanied her to the Bath

station, intending himself to remain in that city till the following

morning. But when a man or youth has such a tender article on his hands

as a thirty-hour bride it is hardly in the power of his strongest reason

to set her down at a railway, and send her off like a superfluous

portmanteau. Hence the experiment of parting so soon after their union

proved excruciatingly severe to these. The evening was dull; the breeze

of autumn crept fitfully through every slit and aperture in the town; not

a soul in the world seemed to notice or care about anything they did.

Lady Constantine sighed; and there was no resisting it,--he could not

leave her thus. He decided to get into the train with her, and keep her

company for at least a few stations on her way.

It drew on to be a dark night, and, seeing that there was no serious risk

after all, he prolonged his journey with her so far as to the junction at

which the branch line to Warborne forked off. Here it was necessary to

wait a few minutes, before either he could go back or she could go on.

They wandered outside the station doorway into the gloom of the road, and

there agreed to part.

While she yet stood holding his arm a phaeton sped towards the station-

entrance, where, in ascending the slope to the door, the horse suddenly

jibbed. The gentleman who was driving, being either impatient, or

possessed with a theory that all jibbers may be started by severe

whipping, applied the lash; as a result of it, the horse thrust round the

carriage to where they stood, and the end of the driver's sweeping whip

cut across Lady Constantine's face with such severity as to cause her an

involuntary cry. Swithin turned her round to the lamplight, and

discerned a streak of blood on her cheek.




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