Mrs. Eversley wrote more briefly, congratulating him upon forming an alliance that must elevate his social position and exercise a refining influence upon his manners, hoping he would not forget that the first would sometimes be last in the kingdom of Heaven, but wishing him and the Honourable Miss Venniker every happiness in this life and in the next. Gerald read his father’s letter to Ethel Venniker--only leaving out the part relating to social conditions. ‘What a dear man he must be!’ she said; ‘I long to make his acquaintance.’ He did not read her Mrs. Eversley’s letter. CHAPTER XII ST. MARTIN’S SUMMER Oh! that this story could end where it is now! But it must be told, if told at all, to the end. There seems to be a tacit assumption among story-tellers that every story that is told should issue in happiness. That is the way of stories; it is not the way of life. Life is full of tragedies, often known, oftener unknown, that find no satisfaction in this world. It is not permitted to man to see the ending of them; the fierce light beyond the veil will discover it. Gerald Eversley’s engagement took place in September. He spent the remainder of his vacation at Helmsbury. How bright, how beautiful the days were! For the first time in his life since childhood--and ah! for the last--Gerald Eversley seemed to himself to live as the Blessed live. Whatever restraint had lain upon his association with Ethel Venniker was now done away. His place was at her side. He was no more open to the fear that, in allowing himself the luxury of accompanying her, he might be doing her a wrong. Day followed day in bliss unalloyed. The mornings were spent in reading and discussing the masterpieces of literature, Gerald exposing to her view literary treasures of which she had no idea; the afternoons in long walks over the downs, often with the object of paying a visit and ministering relief to some one who was in sickness or distress; then before dinner and in the evening they would have music, which was always a strong bond between them, or they would sit in Lady Venniker’s room, and she would give them her experience of life, and would watch with tender interest how each of them seemed more and more to find a complement in the other. It pleased her to fancy that, when they were man and wife, each would be the better and the nobler for the other. Now and again, too, she would speak of marriage, sometimes religiously, saying that it was the symbol of the Saviour’s spiritual union with His church, and, as it was so, wife and husband must be infinitely faithful and tender each to the other, nor must any word or thought come between them to desecrate the sanctity of that relation.