d mission was to stick on and follow Kate, who thought no more
about him once they were away. He had flopped over the first fence
without a mistake; but coming on a bit of road the old horse faltered, a
few yards more he was dead lame. Harry jumped off, and found a shoe gone.
Dashwood had a spare one he remembered, and there was a blacksmith, not
half a mile distant. He looked round--no sign of him of course; he was
sailing away with a good start, fields ahead, in that contented ecstasy
that stops not for friend or foe. There was nothing for it but to plod on
to the forge, trusting to nick in later in the day. As the shoe had to be
made, delay was inevitable. Dutton lit a cigar to while away the term of
durance, and was disconsolately looking out at the door of the smithy,
when he observed one of the Bromley grooms trotting smartly down the
road.

He hailed the man, who touched his hat with alacrity. "I was riding to
find you, sir; his Lordship has sent your letters."

The train was late, and the post had not arrived before they had been
obliged to start that morning. He tore open a large blue official
envelope, "On Her Majesty's Service," and read his appointment to H.M.S.
"Druid," one of the Baltic fleet.

Harry stood intent a minute, with compressed lips, then signed to the
groom to give him his horse.

"I have got letters for Colonel Dashwood and Mr. Hobart, too, sir."

"Well, 'Figaro' will be shod in five minutes. But you won't catch them
this side of the Bushes; they were going straight for them half an hour
ago."

And he galloped away with his loose sailor seat in the direction of "The
Towers." The hour had come. That letter was the self-imposed signal for
the acknowledgment of his marriage, and, perhaps, extinction of all hope
of inheritance. One watchful figure at the library window perceived his
red coat winding through the trees on his way to the stables. Lady
Geraldine had caught sight of the blue envelope, and, with the prescience
of love, had divined the whole. She had not wandered far from the window
that morning, being too restless and miserable for anything else. Now, as
she perceived him, her heart stood still. He must be going that very day.

"Well, she would see him once more, at any rate. Adieux must be spoken,
and, after last night, surely something more, something to dwell on
when they were apart." The carriage was rolling up to the door for the
daily drive. Lady Calvert and Kate's mother c