ife was too bright, the joy was too great. Especially did he
feel this on the evening before the day fixed for their wedding. He had
come down from town to dinner, and when, after he had smoked a cigar
with John Castlemaine, he and Olive were alone, it seemed to him as
though his present happiness were a dream, and that he would presently
awake to grim and stern realities.

"Why are you so sad, Radford?" asked Olive; "is anything worrying you?"

"Yes, no--I don't know."

She looked at him keenly.

"Something _is_ troubling you," she said. "Won't you tell me?"

"Olive," he said, "to-morrow is our wedding-day. I--I want to ask you
something. I want you to promise me something."

She looked at him wonderingly, and then waited for him to continue.

CHAPTER IX

THE NIGHT BEFORE THE WEDDING

"Olive," he said presently, "you've heard strange things about me?"

She nodded.

"You've believed them?"

"You have not denied them. But never mind those now. The past is past."

"Is it?" he said moodily. "Sometimes I almost believe it is; but only
sometimes. Generally I have a feeling that there is no past; that what
we call past keeps rising up against us, and cursing us."

"Radford, you are not well."

"Yes, I am. My trouble is that I am too happy. Oh, I know what I am
talking about. I am too happy. To-morrow is our wedding-day. Think of
it, to-morrow you are to be my wife, you are to be mine--mine. The
wedding is to be early, then in the afternoon we are going to drive to
London, and take the train for the Continent. We are going to Florence,
to Rome, to Naples, to Capri, to Corsica. We are going away to sunshine,
we are going to miss six weeks of dreary weather, and then when we
return the spring will be here. Think of it! And I shall have you. _You_
all the time; you, my wife! Is it a wonder that I am too happy?"

There was a look of pride in the girl's eyes. It rejoiced her to feel
that she could so arouse this proud, self-contained man, that she could
drive his cynicism from him. She thought of the old Leicester, and the
new, and her heart grew warm.

"And yet I am miserable," he went on; "I am haunted with a great fear
lest all this can never come to pass."

She laughed almost gaily.

"The wedding dress has been bought," she said, "and even now our
minister, Mr. Sackville, is talking with father about the ceremony
to-morrow."

"Yes, yes, I know, but if there is no past. If it is resurrected----"