It was long before the carriage which contained the Duchess of Ribblesdale and Evelyn, and the young Duke and Wilfred, was allowed to depart; and the Lord Lieutenant--who, as a near neighbour and old friend of the family, insisted on riding beside it, and who was a peer of over seventy, and a widower--lost his heart completely to the fair young girl. When the cavalcade reached the bridge of Holmcastle, there were seen two triumphal arches. One of these was surmounted by an object remotely resembling a Catharine wheel, beneath which, without strict regard to grammatical propriety, was inscribed, “Welcome to our Lancashire Hero and Victoria Cross,” and the other bore the legend, “Long live the Lovely Lily of our Dale.” And there the villagers were assembled, young and old, some cheering, others--for they remembered the sweet disposition and true brotherhood of the young Squire--crying for very joy. And when at length they reached the Manor, they were met by a host of old friends. The good Rector himself was the first to open the carriage door, and the first person to greet Wilfred was Mary Elthorne, who had been at home for about a fortnight, looking brighter and fresher than ever, and wearing the most ravishing of summer hats. You may be sure Mr. Merivale was not absent, and it was old Pinfold who, trembling with emotion, conducted the lord of the Manor and his guests into his own house and home. The Rector and Mr. Merivale, who had managed everything, had found out and disinterred the faithful old man from a back street in Manchester, where he had betaken himself upon the arrival of Mr. Tresham Potts at the Manor. CHAPTER XXIX. “ALL’S WELL THAT ENDS WELL.” WHEN the festivities at Holmcastle were over--they lasted three days, and will long be remembered in the lovely Dale of the Arrow--Wilfred and Evelyn, as had been previously arranged, went on with the Duchess of Ribblesdale and her son, in order to be present at the still grander fêtes which were to celebrate the coming of age of the latter. The previous day, there was a grand picnic up the Dale to the Old Maen of Stanwick. It was on that occasion that the young Duke, following Evelyn, who had expressed a wish once more to stand on the peak of Stanwick Edge, put into practice the resolution he had formed erewhile in the railway carriage on his way from Hampton Court to London, viz., to make an offer of marriage to the beautiful sister of his friend. It boots not to tell the precise words in which the young man couched his proposal, but it is needful to record that the young lady’s answer was monosyllabic, and in the affirmative. And then, after a few minutes, during which her lover had held her in his arms, the young girl murmured, “But oh! what will the Duchess think of me?”