"Time to say farewell. Once she's married, she will never see Unity Dandridge again!" Both laughed, but there was much tenderness in their laughter. "Oh, she's individual!" said Ludwell. "Even when you add the Cary, she'll be Unity Dandridge still. A year! Perhaps she may relent." "I've given my word not to ask her." "Ah!--well, a year's not so long, Fair. She's a lovely witch--she'll charm the hours away. This time next year how gay we'll make the old house!" The younger paced the room. "I can't go to bed. Michaelmas--Christmas--St. Valentine's--Easter--the Fourth--then August again. Twelve months!" "You'll ride to Fontenoy in the morning." "That's true--and you'll ride with me. The last thing that she said was that I was to bring you. Ludwell, I want to say that not even Unity, though I love her so much, could ever make me love you an iota the less. You know that, don't you?" "Yes, I know, Fair," said the other from the great chair. "We are friends as well as brothers. I'm as glad for your happiness as if it were my own, and I'll ride with you to Fontenoy to kiss my new sister. You've both chosen wisely, and it's a great day for Greenwood! Stop that striding here and there like an ecstatic lion! Sit down and tell me all about it again. The wine's good, and I'll light more candles. There!" "You're the best fellow in the world, Ludwell," said the younger gratefully. "She had on a gown with little flowers all over a yellowy ground, and there was a curl that came down on her white neck--and when I had gone away forever and then felt her hand upon my arm, it was like a sword-stroke opening Paradise. It isn't really late, is it? I could talk till dawn!" CHAPTER XVIII THE GREEN DOOR