. It did not
seem to her a very nice drink--not to be compared to _sirop aux
fraises_--but she knew at weddings people always had champagne.

Michael gulped down a bumper, and it steadied his nerves and the fresh,
vigorously healthy color came back to his face. The whole situation had
excited his every sense.

"Let me wish you all joy--Mrs.--Arranstoun!" he said.

The little bride laughed her rippling laugh. This brought her back to
earth and the material, jolly side of things, it was so funny to hear
herself thus called.

"Oh! that does sound odd!" she cried. "I shall never call myself
that--why, people might know I must be something connected with this
castle, and they would be questioning, and I couldn't have a scrap of
fun! You have got another name--you said it just now, 'Michael Howard
Arranstoun'--that will do. I shall be Mrs. Howard! It is quite
ordinary--and shall I be a widow? I've never thought of all this yet.
Oh! it will be fun."

Every second of the time her charm was further affecting Michael--he was
not conscious of any definite intention--only to talk to her--to detain
her as long as possible. She was like a breath of exquisite spring air
after Violet Hatfield.

Mr. Fergusson here came in from the chapel with the certificate--and his
presence seemed a great bore, and after thanking him for his services,
Michael poured him out some wine to drink their healths, and then the
butler announced that the brougham was waiting at the door to take the
old gentleman home.

Sabine had stood up on his entrance and came forward to wish him
good-bye; now that the certificate was there she intended to go herself
by the balcony steps as soon as he should be safely off by the door.

"Good-bye, my dear young lady, I have known your husband since he was
born, and with all his faults he is a splendid fellow; let me wish you
every happiness and prosperity together and may you be blessed with many
children and peace."

Sabine stiffened--she felt she ought to enlighten the benevolent old
man, who evidently did not understand at all that she was going to trip
off--not as he, just to her own home, but out of Mr. Arranstoun's life
forever--but no suitable words would come, and Michael, afraid of what
she might say, hurried his chaplain off without more ado and then
returned to her and shut the door.

Now they were absolutely alone and the clock struck ten in the courtyard
with measured strokes.

"Let us begin suppe