"I am verily none so sure of that," answered Lady Rosamond with a laugh. "But I would have my son honourable in all things, sweet Elidore, and that I trow good Master Taylor will not fail to make thee. Now prithee hold thy prattling tongue, and list to what tidings this letter brings us of thy brave father, and meanwhile Master Vere may have time to consider his acceptance of thy noble relinquishment of the Lady Shanno's hand!" * * * * * * * So, with her home enlivened by the innocent wiles of children, and cheered by the daily visits of the poor and suffering to whom she loved to minister, the Lady Shanno saw at last her ancestral halls free from the stain and reproach of the past; and knowing the name of her father's ancient house to be blessed in all the country-side, she bore the self-imposed burden of her life with brave cheerfulness, ever sustained and comforted by the unselfish devotion of her ideal knight, whose name "Sir Galahad" had never been more truly deserved than during these years of their mutual self-sacrifice. CHAPTER XXXIX. THE WARNING FULFILLED. "For sudden the worst turns the best to the brave, The black minutes at end, And the elements' rage, the fiend-voices that rave, Shall dwindle, shall blend, Shall change, shall become first a peace out of pain, Then a light, then thy breast, O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again, And with God be the rest!" --ROBERT BROWNING. "Where there exists the most ardent and true Love, it is often better to be united in Death than separated in Life."--VALERIUS MAXIMUS. The 30th of January of the year 1649 dawned dark and lowering in the vale of Gwynnon, and while those dark scenes which dyed Cromwell's hand in blood were being enacted in far-distant London, and the hearts of the murdered king's faithful followers in the hamlet of Bryn Afon were aching bitterly over the tragedy to be that day consummated, the wind raged and howled through the valley, and tore up the trees along the river-bank in its mad fury, while the rain fell in torrents of angry weeping, the very elements themselves lifting up as it were a wild cry of protestation against the deed of wickedness which was being perpetrated.