proceedings immediately on his arrival in London. His
case was a clear and simple one; there was no opposition; consequently he
was soon, matrimonially considered a free man.

The Duke of Hereward was now nearly fifty years of age. Life was
uncertain, and the laws of succession very certain.

If the present bearer of the coronet of Hereward should die childless,
the title would not descend to the son of his only and beloved sister,
but would go to a distant relative whom the duke hated.

A speedy marriage seemed necessary.

The duke looked around the upper circle of London society, and fixed upon
the Lady Augusta Victoria McDugald, the eldest daughter of the Earl of
Banff, and a woman as little like his unhappy first wife as it was
Possible for her to be.

"The daughter of an hundred earls" was tall and stately, cold and proud,
embodying the child's or the peasant's very ideal of "a duchess."

"Dukes," like monarchs, "seldom woo in vain."

After a short courtship the duke proposed for the lady, and after a
shorter engagement, married her.

The newly-wedded pair went on a very unusually extended tour over Europe,
into Asia and Africa, and then across the ocean and over North and South
America.

After twelve months spent in travel, they returned to England only that
the anticipated heir of the dukedom might be born on the patrimonial
estate of Hereward Hold.

There was the utmost fulfillment of hope. The expected child proved to be
a fine boy, who was christened for his father, Archibald-Alexander-John,
by courtesy styled Marquis of Arondelle.

Had the duke's mind been as free from remorse for his homicide as
his heart was free from regret for his first love, he would have
been as happy a man as he was a proud father; but ah! the sense of
blood-guiltiness, although incurred in the duel, under the so-called
"code of honor," weighed heavily upon his conscience, and over-shadowed
all his joys.

His duchess was a prolific mother, and brought him other sons and
daughters as the years went by; but, as if some spell of fatality hung
over the family, these children all passed away in childhood, leaving
only the young Marquis of Arondelle as the sole hope of the great ducal
house of Hereward.

So the time passed in varied joys and sorrows, without bringing any
tidings, good or bad, of the poor, lost girl who had once shared the
duke's title and possessed his heart.

He believed her to be as dead to the world as s