was determined that there
should be no further delay of the marriage, and one morning without pomp
or parade of any kind, Mr. Ives took his bride into Wancote, and they
returned home man and wife.

The only wedding-guest was the parson's old friend Dr. Glebe, and he
returned with them to the parsonage because he had a few serious words
that he wished to say there.

He took Mr. Ives aside, and said abruptly, "Are you mad, Ives? Do you
wish to lose that peerless daughter of yours? I warn you that you will
do so, if you are not more watchful."

"I would give my life for hers," answered her father sorrowfully. "And
so would Mary, who loves her dearly, but alas! what can we do? We cannot
bring back John Johnstone."

"You must send her away at once. She must have change of air and scene.
At once, mark you, without an hour's unnecessary delay."

"You think it will do her good?"

"I think it the one chance of escaping fatal mischief. See, I have a
plan to propose. Why not send her to Newbury to her aunt? She is a
sensible woman, and the house is full of children--they will rouse her."

"I will take her myself," cried Mr. Ives.

"Nay, nay, that would defeat my object. I want absolute change for her,
change of thought, scene, companions."

"But how manage it, if I may not go myself?"

"Squire Thornton rides to Newbury tomorrow with Sir Harry Clare, and he
will willingly be her protector."

"They ride?"

"Yes, it will do Betty good to ride, and old Isaac can follow with a
valise full of clothes."

"Tomorrow did you say?"

"Tomorrow at daybreak."

"It shall be done. God grant that it may do her good."

The following morning, with many a tear and many a blessing Mr. Ives and
his wife started Betty on her way.

She made no resistance, passively assented to all they wished. When she
was once more in the saddle, her spirits rose feverishly again.

Sir Harry Clare, riding by her side, felt the old fascination stealing
over him again, the fascination that had well nigh broken Lady Rachel's
heart at Newbury last year. Squire Thornton saw her bright color, and
heard the old lively talk as of old, and thought how that time cures all
things, and that perhaps in the days to come, his son might have a
chance at last.

About half way on their journey the little party was joined by two
gentlemen who reached the highway by a cross-road; they lived far from
the Wancote neighbourhood. The one Sir James Templemore, the other