ciously offered to wed us, knowing how much it
would mean to her that it should be you, Reverend Father."

"Gladly am I here for that purpose, my son," replied the Bishop,
"having as you know, the leave and sanction of His Holiness for so
doing. Shall we proceed at once to the chapel, or do you plan first to
sup?"

"Nay, Father," said the Knight. "My betrothed has ridden far and needs
food first, and then a good night's rest. If it will not too much
delay your return to Worcester, I would pray you to wed us in the
morning."

Knowing how determined Hugh had been, in laying his plans, to be wed at
once on reaching Warwick, the Bishop looked up quickly, wishing to
understand what had wrought this change.

He saw on the Knight's face that look of radiant peace which the
Prioress had seen, when first the cloak was turned back in the crypt;
and the Bishop, having passed that way himself, knew that to Hugh had
come the revelation which comes but to the true, lover--the deepest of
all joys, that of putting himself on one side, and of thinking, first
and only, of the welfare of the beloved.

And seeing this, the Bishop let go his fears, and in his heart thanked
God.

"It is well planned, Hugh," he said. "I am here until the morning."

At which the Knight turning, strode quickly to the door, and beckoned.

Then back he came, leading by the hand the buxom, motherly old dame,
seen on arrival by the Bishop. Who, when the Lady Mora saw, she gave a
cry, and ran to meet her.

"Debbie!" she cried, "Oh, Debbie! Let us go home!"

And with that the tension broke all on a sudden, and with her old
nurse's arms around her, she sobbed on the faithful bosom which had
been the refuge of her childhood's woes.

"There, my pretty!" said Deborah, as best she could for her own sobs.
"There, there! We are at home, now we are together. Come and see the
chamber in which we shall sleep, just as we slept long years ago, when
you were a babe, my dear."

So, with her old nurse's arms about her, she, who had come in so
proudly, went gently out in a soft mist of tears.

The Bishop turned away.

"Love never faileth," he murmured, half aloud.

Hugh turned with him, and laughed; but in his laughter there was no
vexation, no bitterness, no unrest. It was the happy laugh of a heart
aglow with a hope amounting to certainty.

"There were two of us the other night, my dear lord," he said; "but now
old Debbie has appeared, methinks there