ch was full, and silks rustled and bright eyes flashed
inquisitively, and people wondered who that tall, foreign-looking
person beside my lady might be.

It was Sybilla Silver, gorgeous in golden silk, with her black eyes
lighted with cruel, inward exultation, and who glared almost fiercely
upon the beautiful bride.

My lady, magnificent in her superb disdain of all these childish
proceedings, stood by and acknowledged in her heart of hearts that if
beauty and grace be any excuse for folly, her son had those excuses.

Lovely as a vision, with her pure, pale, passionless face, her clear,
sweet eyes, Harriet Hunsden swept up the aisle in her rich bridal
robes, her floating lace, and virginal orange-blossoms.

The bridegroom's eyes kindled with admiration and pride as he took his
place by her side, he looking as noble and gallant a gentleman as
England could boast.

It was over--she was his wife! They had registered their names, they
drove back to the rectory, the congratulations offered, the breakfast
eaten, the toast drunk. She was upstairs dressing for her journey; the
carriage and the bridegroom were waiting impatiently below.

Mrs. Green hovered about her with matronly solicitude, and at the last
moment Harriet flung herself impetuously upon her neck and broke out
into hysterical crying.

"Forgive me!" she sobbed. "Oh, Mrs. Green, I never had a mother!"

Then she drew down her veil and ran out of the room before the good
woman could speak. Sir Everard was waiting in the hall. He drew her
hand under his arm and hurried her away. Mrs. Green got down-stairs
only in time to see her in the carriage.

Then the bridegroom sprung lightly in beside her, the carriage door
closed, the horses started, and the happy pair were off.

* * * * *

Sybilla Silver went back to the Court alone. My lady, in sullen
dignity, took her daughter and went straight to her jointure house at
the other extremity of the village.

She stood in the confer of a lengthy suite of apartments--the new Lady
Kingsland's--opening one into the other in a long vista of splendor.
She took a portrait out of her breast and gazed at it with brightly
glittering eyes.

"A whole year has passed, my mother," she said, slowly, "and nothing
has been done. But Sybilla will keep her oath. Sir Jasper Kingsland's
only son shall meet his doom. It is through her I will strike; that
blow will be doubly bitter. Before this day twelv