One only unutterable terror she had, which by a fortunate chance was never alluded to by any one, and she was too much occupied to have it often forced on her mind. This was, the thought of having to cross the seas to Canada. “Oh!” she sighed, as she sat, with the letters on her lap, listening to what her lover said of his sisters and his family--“oh! that we could do as your father seems to wish, and go and live in Dorsetshire, near Kingcombe Holm.” “I wish it too, if it would please you, dear; but it seems impossible. How could I live in England without a profession?--even supposing Uncle Brian did consent to return and settle at home. Sometimes, but very rarely, he has hinted at such a possibility.--He has indeed, Anne,” continued the young man, noticing how keenly Miss Valery's eyes were fixed on him. “I am glad to hear it.” “But he always said he would never return till he was grown either very rich or very old. Alas; the latter chance may come, but the former never! Poor Uncle Brian! If he comes at all, it is sure not to be for many years.” “Not for many years!” repeated Miss Valery, who was crossing over to Agatha's side with a piece of rich lace she had been unfolding. As she walked, her hand was unconsciously pressed upon her chest, a habit she had after any quick movement. And, leaning over Agatha, she breathed painfully and hard. “My dear?” The young girl looked up. “Your sisters that are to be desired me to give you from them a wedding-present. It was to be your veil. But I had a whim that I would like to give you your veil myself. Here it is. Will you accept it, with my love?” [Illustration: Will you accept it, with my love p090] So saying, she laid over the bride's head a piece of old point lace, magnificent in texture. Agatha had never seen anything like it. “Oh, Miss Valery, to think of your giving me this! It is fit for a queen!” And she looked at Mr. Harper, hesitating to accept so costly a gift. “Nay, take it,” said he smiling. “Never scruple at its costliness; it cannot be richer than Anne's heart.” And he grasped his old friend's hand warmly. Miss Valery continued, with a slight colour rising in her cheek. “This was given me twenty years ago for a wedding-veil. It has been wasted upon me, you see, but I wish some one to wear it, and would like it to be worn by a Mrs. Locke Harper.” Agatha blushed crimson. Nathanael looked delighted. Neither noticed Anne Valery; who, her passing colour having sunk into a still deeper paleness, quietly returned to her seat, and soon after quitted the house. CHAPTER IX. It was a most unconscionably early hour on the wedding morning when Mrs. Thornycroft, who had insisted on mounting guard overnight in Bedford Square, to see that all things were made ready to go off “merry as a marriage bell,” came into Agatha's room and roused the bride. “I never knew such a thing in all my life! Well, he is the most extraordinary young man! What is to be done, my dear?”