The preparations for the wedding were begun. On so magnificent a scale that the fashionable world of London was ringing with them. The bridegroom's liberality, in all that concerned his future wife, could not be surpassed. Settlements, houses, carriages, horses, furniture, ornaments, jewellery, all were perfect of their kind, leaving nothing to be wished for. The Lady Adela had once spoken of Aladdin's lamp, in reference to her sister Grace's ideal union; looking on these real preparations, one might imagine that some magic, equally powerful, was at work now. Lord Acorn had a place in Oxfordshire, and the family went to it in October. Mr. Grubb paid it one or two short visits, and went down for Christmas, staying there ten days. They were all cordial with him, except Adela; she continued to be supremely indifferent. He won upon their regard strangely; the girls could do nothing but sing his praises. Poor unselfish Grace once caught herself wishing that that early misapprehension had not been one, and then took herself to task severely. She loved Adela, and was glad for her sake. But Adela was not quite always cold and haughty. As if to show her affianced husband that such was not her true nature, she would now and again be sweetly winning and gentle. On one of these occasions he caught her hand. They were alone, sitting on a sofa; Frances had run into the next room for a book they were discussing. "Adela," he whispered passionately, taking both her hands in his, "but for these rare moments, I should be in despair." She did not, for a wonder, resent the words. She glanced up at him, a shy look in her sweet brown eyes, a smile on her parted lips, a deeper rose-blush on her delicate face. He stooped and kissed her; kissed her fervently. She resented that. For when Frances, coming back on the instant, entered, she met Adela sweeping from the room in a storm of anger. Not to let him kiss her! And in six weeks' time she was to be his wife! Mr. Grubb had an adventure on the journey home. They had passed Reading some minutes, when the train was stopped. A down-train had come to grief through the breaking of an axle, throwing a carriage, fortunately empty, right across the line; which in consequence was temporarily blocked up. The passengers of the down-train, very few of them, were standing about; the passengers of the up-train got out also. "Can I be of any use?--can I do anything for you?" asked Mr. Grubb, addressing a little lady in a black-silk cloak and close bonnet, who was sitting on a box and looking rather helpless. And, though he had heard of Miss Margery Upton, he was not aware that it was she to whom he was speaking. "It is good of you to inquire, sir; you are the first who has done it," she answered; "but I don't see that there's anything to be done. We might all have been killed. They should keep their material in safer order."