‘His absence might cause a scandal, dearest. Remember, he is my nearest relation, known to be quite near at hand, and closely associated with this place. Do you not think that people would say unpleasant things if we left him out?’ ‘Yes,’ sighed Beatrix, ‘people have a knack of imagining the worst.’ ‘I should be very sorry if any one were to say that Cyril was absent from my wedding because he and my wife feared to meet,’ said Kenrick, with a sudden pang of jealousy. ‘They shall have no reason for saying anything of the kind,’ Beatrix answered, proudly. ‘Pray invite your cousin.’ ‘Now you are angry.’ ‘Not with you,’ she answered, quickly. ‘I am angry with the world, life, fate.’ ‘What, Beatrix, now, after you have made me so happy, when all our life is smiling upon us--every cloud gone?’ Beatrix’s only answer was a sigh. But Kenrick was rapt in the placid delight of his good fortune. He loved his betrothed too well to believe it possible that she did not love him. They had lived so happily, as it seemed to him, for nearly four months, in each other’s society. They had never had a dispute--or even a difference of opinion. Could he doubt that she had grown fonder of him day by day in all that time? Her irritation to-night was natural, he argued. It arose from her scorn of the scandals that had darkened her young life. It was hard for her to forget these things. Kenrick wrote next day to his cousin: ‘DEAR CYRIL,--The Dulcimers say you ought to assist at my wedding, and I think the same. Will you come? ‘Yours always, ‘KENRICK.’ The answer was very little longer: ‘DEAR KENRICK,--I agree with you and the Dulcimers. I will come to assist in the ceremony, and to wish you and your bride all blessings that this life and the brighter life after can yield. ‘My time is closely occupied here, so my visit must be of the shortest. I will come on Tuesday afternoon, and must return on Wednesday, directly after the wedding. ‘Yours in all affection and good faith, ‘CYRIL.’ This letter made Kenrick happy. It dispelled the one uneasiness of his mind, the lurking notion that he had helped to spoil his cousin’s peace. Cyril was evidently reconciled to the existing state of things. After all it was his own doing, Kenrick thought. He had no right to complain. Kenrick showed the letter to Beatrix, who read it slowly and thoughtfully, and returned it to him without a word. ‘A gentleman-like letter, isn’t it?’ asked Kenrick. ‘Very,’ she answered. Did it please her that her former lover should write in so friendly a tone--that he should be willing to assist in the solemn act that was to make their severance irrevocable? No. His willingness stung her to the quick.