was their
farewell to the beautiful spot they both loved.

"I am so glad," said Lord Chandos, "that we can say good-bye to it by
the light of the moon. I wonder, Leone, when we shall see the
mill-stream again? I have a fancy that the pretty water has helped me in
my wooing."

As they sat there the wind rose and stirred the branches of the
alder-trees. In some way the great wavy masses of dark hair became
unfastened, and fell like a thick soft veil over Leone's shoulders. Lord
Chandos touched it caressingly with his hand.

"What beautiful hair, Leone--how thick and soft; how beautiful those
wavy lines are--what makes them?"

"A turn of Dame Nature's fingers," she replied, laughingly.

"I should like to see diamonds shining in these coils of hair," he said.
"Leone, one of the first things we must do to-morrow when we reach
London, is to buy a very handsome traveling-dress. I have written to-day
to my father to ask him to meet us at Dunmore House."

She repeated the words.

"Where is Dunmore House?" she asked.

"I forgot," he said, "that all places so familiar to me are strange to
you. One of my father's titles is Baron Dunmore, and his London
residence is called Dunmore House. We shall meet him there to-morrow,
and then you will be my wife."

For the first time she realized what an immense difference there was in
their positions. She glanced at him in sudden fear.

"Lance," she said, "shall I seem very much out of place in your home,
and among your friends?"

"My darling, you would grace any home," he replied; "mine has had no
fairer mistress in all the generations it has stood."

"I am half frightened," she said, gently.

"You need not be, sweet. Before this time next year all London will know
and admire the beautiful Lady Chandos."

"It seems a long leap to take in life," she said, "from being Farmer
Noel's niece to bear the name of Lady Chandos."

"You will grace the name, Leone," he replied. "I shall be the proudest
man in England--I shall have the most beautiful wife in England. This is
our last separation, our last parting; after this, we need never part."

He stooped down and caught some of the running water in his hand.

"A libation," he said, as he poured it back again. "I feel as though I
were losing a friend when I leave the mill-stream."

Loving and loved, no thought came to them there of how they should see
the mill-stream again.

"Leone, Lady Chandos." More than once that evening she