folly. But she thought of
Swithin, his blonde hair, ardent eyes, and eloquent lips, and was carried
onward by the very reflection.

Entering the surrogate's room Lady Constantine managed, at the last
juncture, to state her errand in tones so collected as to startle even
herself to which her listener replied also as if the whole thing were the
most natural in the world. When it came to the affirmation that she had
lived fifteen days in the parish, she said with dismay--

'O no! I thought the fifteen days meant the interval of residence before
the marriage takes place. I have lived here only thirteen days and a
half. Now I must come again!'

'Ah--well--I think you need not be so particular,' said the surrogate.
'As a matter of fact, though the letter of the law requires fifteen days'
residence, many people make five sufficient. The provision is inserted,
as you doubtless are aware, to hinder runaway marriages as much as
possible, and secret unions, and other such objectionable practices. You
need not come again.'

That evening Lady Constantine wrote to Swithin St. Cleeve the last letter
of the fortnight:--

'MY DEAREST,--Do come to me as soon as you can. By a sort of
favouring blunder I have been able to shorten the time of waiting by a
day. Come at once, for I am almost broken down with apprehension. It
seems rather rash at moments, all this, and I wish you were here to
reassure me. I did not know I should feel so alarmed. I am
frightened at every footstep, and dread lest anybody who knows me
should accost me, and find out why I am here. I sometimes wonder how
I could have agreed to come and enact your part, but I did not realize
how trying it would be. You ought not to have asked me, Swithin; upon
my word, it was too cruel of you, and I will punish you for it when
you come! But I won't upbraid. I hope the homestead is repaired that
has cost me all this sacrifice of modesty. If it were anybody in the
world but _you_ in question I would rush home, without waiting here
for the end of it,--I really think I would! But, dearest, no. I must
show my strength now, or let it be for ever hid. The barriers of
ceremony are broken down between us, and it is for the best that I am
here.'

And yet, at no point of this trying prelude need Lady Constantine have
feared for her strength. Deeds in this connexion demand the particular
kind of courage that such pe