"I am afraid that you have not taken that much into consideration. Asked the child to marry you! Why, Sir Edgar, how long have you been in love with her?" "From the very first moment I ever saw her." "Why," cried her ladyship, "Sir John told me you were in love, and had promised to confide in him." Remembering what I had said to him, I explained to her that in speaking as I had done I referred entirely to Agatha. "It is so utterly unexpected," she said, "that you must pardon my strange reception of your intelligence." She sat quite silent for some minutes, then continued: "It seems so strange for you to fall in love with Agatha. The dearest wish of Sir Barnard's heart was to have her for a daughter-in-law." A fierce spasm of jealousy almost robbed me of my breath. "Did she--did she--" Then I could get no further. "No, Agatha did not like Miles, if that is what you mean?" "Did Miles love her?" "I cannot tell--there was something very mysterious about him. He looked to me like one who had a secret on his mind. I have often wondered what it could be. He was not a happy man of late years." "You have not told me yet, Lady Thesiger, if I have your good wishes." She held out her hand with a gracious, kindly smile. "Shall I tell you the truth--no flattery, but just the simple truth? I would rather Agatha married you than any other man in the nation. She has not only my full consent, but I am pleased, proud and happy." "And Sir John, shall I have his consent?" "There is little doubt of it. I hear him now--he has just arrived, I suppose. You shall see him at once." I rode away from Harden Manor that night a happy man. Sir John, like Lady Thesiger, gave his full, free, unhesitating consent. We had a long, confidential conversation. He told me how his affairs stood. He was a wealthy man, but his expenses were great. He told me frankly that he should not be able to give Agatha a large portion at her marriage, nor could he leave her anything considerable at his death. Harden Manor, with its rich revenues, was all entailed on his son. "So that I am glad, Sir Edgar," he said, "she is likely to marry a rich man. She has been brought up in all luxury, and would never be able to bear privation. I shall feel satisfied of her future now." Alas! so did I. I rode home through the sweet, gathering gloom and the starlight, one of the happiest men in England. I had won my love. She loved me whom I loved best. There seemed to be nothing wanting then. Two short years ago I was poor, my daily life one of monotonous toil, without the least hope of relief. Now the silvery moon fell upon the woods and silvered the roof of the grand old mansion, and all this fair land over which I was riding was mine. Coralie was waiting for me. She affected to be just crossing the hall, but I knew that she had been waiting there to have the first word with me. She looked eagerly into my face.