sense of
terror which she could not explain to herself; which it was imperatively
necessary that she should conceal; and which, on those very accounts,
became a daily and hourly torment to her that was almost more than she
could bear.

One consolation alone supported her: Rosamond and she were not to be
separated. She knew that the baron secretly disliked her as much as she
disliked him; she knew that she must bid farewell to the brighter and
happier part of her life on the day when she went to live under the same
roof with her sister's husband; but, true to the promise made years and
years ago by her dying mother's bed--true to the affection which was the
ruling and beautiful feeling of her whole existence--she never
hesitated about indulging Rosamond's wish, when the girl, in her bright,
light-hearted way, said that she could never get on comfortably in the
marriage state unless she had Ida to live with her and help her just the
same as ever. The baron was too polite a man even to _look_ dissatisfied
when he heard of the proposed arrangement; and it was therefore settled
from the beginning that Ida was always to live with her sister.

The marriage took place in the summer, and the bride and bridegroom
went to spend their honeymoon in Cumberland. On their return to Glenwith
Grange, a visit to the baron's sisters, in Normandy, was talked of; but
the execution of this project was suddenly and disastrously suspended by
the death of Mr. Welwyn, from an attack of pleurisy.

In consequence of this calamity, the projected journey was of course
deferred; and when autumn and the shooting season came, the baron was
unwilling to leave the well-stocked preserves of the Grange. He seemed,
indeed, to grow less and less inclined, as time advanced, for the trip
to Normandy; and wrote excuse after excuse to his sisters, when
letters arrived from them urging him to pay the promised visit. In the
winter-time, he said he would not allow his wife to risk a long journey.
In the spring, his health was pronounced to be delicate. In the
genial summer-time, the accomplishment of the proposed visit would be
impossible, for at that period the baroness expected to become a mother.
Such were the apologies which Franval seemed almost glad to be able to
send to his sisters in France.

The marriage was, in the strictest sense of the term, a happy one. The
baron, though he never altogether lost the strange restraint and reserve
of his manner, was,