“I cannot offer you great love,” Stuart went on, taking her hand. “I will not deceive you, Vane--it is buried in the past; but I will give you affection, devotion--true and sincere devotion, if you will accept it. The gift is poor, Vane. Reject it if you will.” “Reject it, Stuart!” murmured Vane, turning her luminous blue eyes on him. “No; I accept it, for I love you--I have loved you through it all, and I am happy at last!” Stuart pressed his lips to hers; and the compact was sealed. CHAPTER XXIII. Miss Lawson kept to her word and departed on the following day for Hurstley, despite all Margery’s pleading and wishes. The short visit had been a great pleasure to them both. To Margery the very sight of her governess had brought back a wave of her brief past happiness, and unconsciously soothed her; and Miss Lawson had felt her heart thrill with pride and gladness to see her pupil grown so fair and lovely a woman, and surrounded by all that she could desire. Yet the strange sadness in Margery’s eyes would haunt her. What could be the secret that had destroyed her girlishness and brought such an expression to the young face? Miss Lawson pondered this deeply, but could arrive at no solution of the mystery, and indeed would have been no little astonished had she learned what link it was that bound Margery’s heart to Hurstley. She knew the girl had been acquainted with Stuart Crosbie; but that fact was not strange, for Stuart had a kind word and smile for every one in the village, and Margery, of course, shared this general friendship with the rest. Lord Court had welcomed Miss Lawson warmly and courteously, and even in their brief meeting a mutual liking sprung up between them. The earl was delighted to see the flush of pleasure, called up by her presence, on Margery’s face, and he added his entreaties to his wife’s to urge the governess to stay longer; but their pleadings were vain, and Margery could only kiss her true friend and let her depart, having first extracted from her a promise of an early visit to Court Manor. The afternoon on which Miss Lawson left was gloomy and wet, and Margery felt sad and a little lonely as she sat with her books and work. Her husband had gone to the club before luncheon, and she had decided to make the best of a long afternoon when the door opened and he appeared. “Do you feel inclined to go out, my darling?” he asked, tenderly, bending to imprint a kiss on her brow. Margery looked up inquiringly. “Because,” he explained, “I should like to take you with me to call on an old friend who is ill. I had no idea he was in England. As a rule, he is wandering round the world in a most extraordinary fashion. But I saw Notteway at the club, and he told me Gerant has been down with rheumatic fever for the last six weeks and was quite alone. So I looked in on him for a few minutes, and, having mentioned my young wife, he pressed me to bring you around to see him, if you had nothing better to do.”