it best to say nothing about it to her, lest
she might suffer disappointment.

"Oh, poor, poor man! How dreadful to
be deserted by his own wife! The very
one person in all the world he might have
hoped to rely on for comfort and sympathy
in his troubles. I have seen her. She is a
very beautiful woman. But, oh how cruel
and heartless she must be!"

"Let it be a warning to you not to suffer
your affections to be engrossed by millinery,
and to keep your husband in the first place
in your heart, Mrs. Hugh Lockwood!"

The Sheardowns were scarcely less
delighted than Hugh himself. The captain
insisted that the wedding should take place
from Lowater House.

"But ought I not—don't you think—
what will Uncle Charles say?" Maud
asked, hesitatingly.

"Do you think, my dearest, that your
guardian will be hurt if you are not
married from his roof?"

"I—I'm afraid so," said Maud.

"Well, I will write and ask his
permission to let it be from Lowater,"
said thecaptain.

"Perhaps," said Mrs. Sheardown,
thoughtfully, " it would be best, after all,
for Maud to be married in London, if she
will, and go down to Shipley after the
ceremony. Would you consent to that,
Maudie? ' '

Maud thought she would consent to that.

If all had gone differently, she would
have liked to be married in the ancient
village church that she had worshipped in
from childhood. But now there would be
too many painful associations connected
with St. Gildas! She would miss Veronica's
face beaming out from its accustomed
corner; she would miss Veronica's
voice in the bridal hymn of the choir. It
would call up in the vicar's mind all that
was sad and terrible in his daughter's fate.
No: it would be better to be married in
town. And, after all, it mattered very
little to herself. Hugh would be there.
Hugh would take care of her. Hugh would
love her. Could anything matter very
much as long as she had Hugh? Mrs.
Sheardown took an opportunity of drawing
Hugh aside, and explaining to him her
reasons for thinking that the vicar of
Shipley-in-the-Wold would be rather
relieved than offended by getting rid of the
spectacle of his ward's wedding. Meanwhile
there was much to be done. A letter
had to be written to the architect whose
business Hugh intended to purchase. A
friend in the neighbourhood of Danecester
was to be commissioned to look out for a
house for the young couple. The house
must have a garden, at any rate, and, if
possible, a little stable for a pony and pony-
carriage, which Hugh intended to purchase
for the use of his wife. Though this latter
desideratum, he observed smilingly, he
could build for himself, if need were. And
there must be a cottage found in the
neighbourhood for Mrs. Lockwood.

But when he spoke of this to his mother,
she met him with a request that he would
leave that part of his arrangements which
concerned her in abeyance for awhile.

"But, mother, why? Surely you mean
to live near us, don't you?"

"Perhaps not, Hugh. Don't ask me
any more at present. I may have
something to tell you by-and-bye. You need
not look uneasy. It is nothing terrible. I
will not deceive you— again."

At the end of a fortnight, and when the
day fixed for the wedding was near at hand,
Zillah Lockwood made the confidence she
had announced to her son.

"Hugh," said she, " I have become a
Roman Catholic."

"A Roman Catholic! Mother!"

"Yes: I humbly hope to find peace and
forgiveness in the bosom of the Church. I
shall at least be able to make some expiation,
and to pray for those whom I love.
Rome does not reject the humble, pious
efforts after goodness of the faithful, as
your stern Calvinistic creed does. I always,
when I was a girl in Paris, had a great
admiration for the good religieuses, and was
attracted by them. The seed of their
blessed example has borne fruit in my soul.
The price of this house, which your father
bequeathed to me, will suffice to gain me
admission into a poor order whose members
devote themselves to the sick poor.
On the day of your marriage I shall become
a member— an unworthy and humble
member— of a pious sisterhood in Belgium.
The good priest, who has been enlightening
my dark mind with the comfortable
truths of religion, will make all the
necessary arrangements for me. I shall pray
fervently for you, my son, and for your
sweet young wife. And all I ask of you,
Hugh, is to make me one promise. If ever
you feel your heart drawn towards the
ancient and holy Mother Church, do not
resist the impulse. It may be that it comes
from Heaven, in answer to the petitions of
the earthly mother who bore you."

Nor could any expostulations or entreaties