at the
Albany, and then they went together to the vestry of St. James' Church.
Lord Beaumaris and Mr. Waldershare had arrived. The bridegroom was a
little embarrassed when he was presented to Lady Roehampton. He had made
up his mind to be married, but not to be introduced to a stranger, and
particularly a lady; but Mr. Waldershare fluttered over them and put
all right. It was only the perplexity of a moment, for the rest of the
wedding party now appeared. Imogene, who was in a travelling dress, was
pale and serious, but transcendently beautiful. She attempted to touch
Lady Roehampton's hand with her lips when Myra welcomed her, but Lady
Roehampton would not permit this, and kissed her. Everybody was calm
during the ceremony except Endymion, who had been silent the whole
morning. He stood by the altar with that convulsion of the throat and
that sickness of the heart which accompany the sense of catastrophe.
He was relieved by some tears which he easily concealed. Nobody noticed
him, for all were thinking of themselves. After the ceremony, they all
returned to the vestry, and Lady Roehampton with the others signed the
registry. Lord and Lady Beaumaris instantly departed for the continent.

"A strange event!" exclaimed Lady Roehampton, as she threw herself back
in the brougham and took her brother's hand. "But not stranger than what
has happened to ourselves. Fortune seems to attend on our ruined home. I
thought the bride looked beautiful."

Endymion was silent.

"You are not gay this morning, my dear," said Lady Roehampton; "they say
that weddings are depressing. Now I am in rather high spirits. I am
very glad that Imogene has become Lady Beaumaris. She is beautiful, and
dangerously beautiful. Do you know, my Endymion, I have had some uneasy
moments about this young lady. Women are prescient in these matters, and
I have observed with anxiety that you admired her too much yourself."

"I am sure you had no reason, Myra," said Endymion, blushing deeply.

"Certainly not from what you said, my dear. It was from what you did
not say that I became alarmed. You seldom mentioned her name, and when
I referred to her, you always turned the conversation. However, that is
all over now. She is Countess of Beaumaris," added Myra, dwelling slowly
and with some unction on the title, "and may be a powerful friend to
you; and I am Countess of Roehampton, and am your friend, also not quite
devoid of power. And there are other countesses,