The whole neighborhood rejoiced at the marriage. There was no man, woman or child who had not pitied the unhappy Lord of Aldenmere, and shuddered at the darksome tragedy that had fallen over him, and now they rejoiced that he was to once more live as his fellowmen lived. One or two went beneath the surface and guessed the truth; that the woman he was marrying now was the only one he had ever really loved. So, amid sunshine and blossoms, amid the pealing of joy-bells, and the joyous clash of music, amid good wishes and blessings, prayers from old and young, from rich and poor, Sir Ronald led his beautiful wife home. To a home that was changed as he was himself, where brightness had given place to gloom, sighs to smiles, wretchedness to joy, sorrow to happiness: where once more the sun of life shone, and all rejoiced in its beams. Lady Alden refused to comply with the old-fashioned institution of their taking a wedding tour. “Let us go home, Ronald,” she said, when he asked her where she would like to spend the honeymoon. “Let us go home. There is no place I shall like or enjoy so much as Aldenmere.” And he, only too happy to find that she would like his home, gladly complied with her wish. CHAPTER XXIX. AFTER FOUR YEARS. Four years have passed since Sir Ronald took Lady Hermione home to Aldenmere. May blossoms are falling now, and the white acacia is all in bloom. England holds no fairer picture than Aldenmere in its spring dress. The golden laburnums droop their long tresses, the purple lilacs are all in flower, the tufted limes send forth sweetest odors, and birds sing joyously in the green trees.