It seemed to him hours had passed when madame reappeared. Certainly he hardly knew the superbly beautiful girl with her. Was it possible that after all the poets had said about "beauty unadorned" that dress made such a difference? It had changed his beautiful Leone into a beautiful empress. Madame looked at him for approval. "I hope your lordship is satisfied," she said; with the usual quickness of her nation, she had detected the fact that this had been a runaway marriage. "I am more than satisfied," he replied. Before him stood a tall, slender girl, whose superb figure was seen to advantage in one of Worth's most fashionable dresses--trailing silk and rich velvet, so skillfully intermixed with the most exquisite taste; a lace bonnet that seemed to crown the rippling hair; pearl-gray gloves that might have grown on the white hands. Her dress was simply perfect; it was at once elegant and ladylike, rich and costly. "I shall not be afraid to face my father now," he said, "I have a talisman." Yet his fair young face grew paler as they reached Dunmore House. It was a terrible risk, and he knew it--a terrible ordeal. He realized what he had done when the housekeeper told him the earl awaited him in the dining-room. A decided sensation of nervousness came over him, and he looked at the fresh, proud, glowing beauty of his young wife to reassure himself. She was perfect, he felt that, and he was satisfied. "Give me your hand, Leone," he said, and the touch of that little hand gave him new courage. He went in leading her, and the earl sprung from his seat in startling amaze. Lord Chandos went boldly up to him. "Father," he said, "allow me to introduce to you my wife, Leone, Lady Chandos." The earl gave a terrified glance at the beautiful southern face, but made no answer. "I have to ask your forgiveness," continued the young lordling, "for having married without your consent; but I knew, under the circumstances, it was useless to ask it, so I married without." Still the same terrified look and utter silence. "Father," cried Lord Chandos, "why do you not welcome my young wife home?" Then Lord Lanswell tried to smile--a dreadful, ghastly smile. "My dear boy," he said, "you are jesting; I am quite sure you are jesting. It cannot be real; you would not be so cruel!" "Father," repeated the young lord, in an imperative voice, "will you bid my wife welcome home?" "No," said the earl stoutly, "I will not. The young lady will excuse me if I decline to bid her welcome to a home that can never be hers." "Father," cried the young man, reproachfully, "I did not expect this from you." "I do not understand what else you could expect," cried the earl, angrily. "Do you mean to tell me that it is true that this person is your wife?" "My dear and honored wife," replied the young man. "Do you mean to tell me that you have actually married this lady, Lance--really married her?"