And then, just as they were getting into the carriage, it seemed to Joseph that Miss Clotilde--he meant Mrs Elbraham, the rich financier's wife--turned her head and looked at Captain Glen in a strange wild way, which made him turn aside and look at Miss Marie, when the bride went for the first time into a hysterical fit of sobbing as she was helped into the carriage, where Mr Elbraham followed her smiling red smiles. The steps were rattled up, the door banged, the footman waited a moment as the chariot moved away; and then sprang up into the rumble beside Mrs Elbraham's maid, and away went the chariot as fast as four good post horses could take it towards London, bound for Charing Cross Station. What took place at the private apartments afterwards Joseph did not know, for long before the chariot had reached Richmond, the honest serving-man's head was wedged in a corner between the press bedstead in the pantry and the wall, and his confused ideas had gone off into dreamland, apparently on the back of a snorting horse, bent on recovering a certain five-pound note which was required for tying up a white satin slipperful of rice, which had been emptied out of Mr Elbraham's glass into a Lincoln and Bennett hat. End of Volume Two. Volume 3, Chapter I. The Story.--Years Ago--(Continued). GERTRUDE'S HUSBAND. Meanwhile the days glided on so peacefully for John Huish and his wife, that it seemed to him as if at last the ghost which had haunted his life had been laid. Sir Humphrey was spending the evening with them, and Dick was expected, as Gertrude was seated in her little drawing-room at the piano, singing one of the sad old melodies that pleased her uncle so well. Her husband was leaning on the instrument gazing down into her gentle eyes, as she looked up at him with her countenance full of the calm joy she felt in the presence of the man of her choice. He was strange at times, but that did not trouble her, for he was gentle and loving always, ready to humour her slightest whim, and kindness itself to the feeble old gentleman who loved to come and prattle and prose in their quiet little home. "John," she whispered, as her fingers strayed over the keys, and her voice was rather sad. "My darling," he said softly. "Do you know what it is to feel so happy that it seems as if it could not last?" "Yes," he said, bending lower over her; "I have felt so ever since the day when you consented to be my little wife, and still it lasts." The piano was again going softly, and for the third time Gertrude sang, in a voice that lulled the old gentleman off to sleep, "Love's young dream." "Let it be always `Love's young dream,'" whispered Huish, as he sank down on one knee beside the music-stool. "Gertrude, darling, I am so happy that it is like being in a dream, one from which we will never let the world wake us with its troubles." She let her head rest upon his shoulder, and her arm was thrown tightly round his neck.