Meanwhile Mr. Thornycroft and Dr. Ianson, with a knowledge that time was precious, had gone at once to the business of the meeting, and were deep in perusal of the marriage-settlement of which they were to be witnesses. “Why, Miss Bowen, you are a richer girl than I knew,” said Emma's worthy husband, coming forward, with his round pleasant face. “I congratulate you; at this particular crisis, when hundreds are being ruined by last year's mania for railway speculation, it is most fortunate to have safe funded property.” Major Harper's conscience groaned within, and it was all over. He resigned himself to stern necessity and force of circumstances--hoping everything would turn out for the best. Then they all gathered round the table, and Mr. Grimes droned out the necessary formalities. The bride-elect listened, half in a dream--the bridegroom rather more attentively. “Are you quite sure,” said he, pausing, with the pen in his hand, and casting his eyes keenly over the document--“are you quite sure this deed answers the purpose I intended? This is the total amount of property which Mr. Bowen left?” And he looked from his brother to the lawyer with an anxiety which long afterwards recurred bitterly to Agatha's mind. Mr. Grimes bowed, and assured him that all was correct. So the young bridegroom signed with a steady hand, and afterwards watched the rather tremulous signature of his bride. Then an inexpressible content diffused itself over his face. Putting her arm in his, he led her away proudly, as though she were already his own. Confused by her novel position, Agatha looked instinctively for some womanly encouragement, but Emma Thornycroft was busily engaged in admiring observation of some wedding presents, and Mrs. Ianson was worse than nobody. “Miss Valery!--what has become of Miss Valery? said the bride, her eyes wandering restlessly around. Other eyes followed hers--Major Harper's. Incredulously these rested on the silent lady in the background, whose whole mien, figure, and attire, in the plain dark dress, and close morning cap, marked her a woman undeniably and fearlessly middle-aged. “Is it possible!” he exclaimed. “Can that be Anne Valery?” The lady arose, and met him with extended hand. “It is Anne Valery, and she is very glad to see you, Major Harper.” They shook hands; his confused manner contrasting strongly with her perfect serenity. After a moment Miss Bowen, who could not help watching, heard him say: “I, too, am glad we have met at last. I hope it is as friends!” “I was never otherwise to you,” she answered, gently; and joined the circle.