marriage came off. There was a dull, chill
service in St. Margaret's, every word of which was sacred to John, a gay
wedding-breakfast, and a laughing crowd from whom the bride and
bridegroom stole away, reaching their own home late in the afternoon.
They were as quiet there as if they had gone into a wilderness. Mrs.
Hatton remained in London for two weeks, with an old school companion,
and Mrs. Harlow was hospitably entertained by Lord and Lady Harlow, who
thoroughly respected her successful efforts to turn Harlow House into
more than a respectable living.

Perhaps she was a little proud of her work, and a little tiresome in
explaining her methods, but that was a transient trial to be easily
looked over, seeing that its infliction was limited to a short period.
On the whole she was praised and pleased, and she told Mrs. Hatton when
they met again, that it was the first time her noble brother-in-law had
ever treated her with kindness and respect.

So the days grew to months, and the months to more than four years, and
the world believed that all was prosperous with the Hattons. Perhaps in
Harry Hatton's case expectations had been a little bettered by
realities. At least in a great measure he had realized the things he had
so passionately desired when he resigned his share in the mill and gave
life up to love, music, and painting. He certainly possessed one of
those wonderful West Riding voices, whose power and sweetness leaves an
abiding echo in memory. And in London he had found such good teachers
and good opportunities that John was now constantly receiving programs
of musical entertainments in which Harry Hatton had a prominent part.
Indeed, John had gone specially to the last Leeds musical event, and had
been greatly delighted with the part assigned Harry and the way in which
he rendered it.

Afterwards he described to Harry's mother the popularity of her son.
"Why, mother," he said, "the big audience were most enthusiastic when
Harry stepped forward. He looked so handsome and his smile and bearing
were so charming, that you could not wonder the people broke into cheers
and bravos. I was as enthusiastic as anyone present. And he sang, yes,
he sang like an angel. Upon my word, mother, one could not expect a soul
who had such music in it to be silent."

"I'm sure I don't know where he got the music. His father never sang a
note that I know of, and though I could sing a cradle song when a crying
child needed it, n