e for the future, as brave as that of Armine; but the very
inspiring recollection of Henrietta Temple, the very remembrance of
the past and triumphant eve, only the more forced upon his memory the
conviction that he was, at this moment, engaged also to another, and
bound to be married to two women.

Something must be done; Miss Grandison might arrive this very day. It
was an improbable incident, but still it might occur. While he was
thus musing, his servant brought him his letters, which had arrived the
preceding day, letters from his mother and Katherine, _his_ Katherine.
They brought present relief. The invalid had not amended; their
movements were still uncertain. Katherine, 'his own Kate,' expressed
even a faint fond wish that he would return. His resolution was taken in
an instant. He decided with the prescient promptitude of one who has
his dearest interests at stake. He wrote to Katherine that he would
instantly fly to her, only that he daily expected his attendance would
be required in town, on military business of urgent importance to their
happiness. This might, this must, necessarily delay their meeting. The
moment he received his summons to attend the Horse Guards, he should
hurry off. In the meantime, she was to write to him here; and at all
events not to quit Bath for Armine, without giving him a notice of
several days. Having despatched this letter and another to his mother,
Ferdinand repaired to the tower to communicate to Glastonbury the
necessity of his immediate departure for London, but he also assured
that good old man of his brief visit to that city. The pang of this
unexpected departure was softened by the positive promise of returning
in a very few days, and returning with his family.

Having made these arrangements, Ferdinand now felt that, come what
might, he had at least secured for himself a certain period of unbroken
bliss. He had a faithful servant, an Italian, in whose discretion he
had justly unlimited confidence. To him Ferdinand intrusted the duty of
bringing, each day, his letters to his retreat, which he had fixed upon
should be that same picturesque farm-house, in whose friendly porch he
had found the preceding day such a hospitable shelter, and where he
had experienced that charming adventure which now rather delighted than
perplexed him.

CHAPTER II.

_A Day of Love_.

MEANWHILE the beautiful Henrietta sat in her bower, her music neglected,
her drawing thrown asid