Margery was strangely affected when she learned that Sir Douglas Gerant was dead. She could not banish from her mind the thought that in some way her presence had caused him distress. The earl saw her pained face, and immediately determined to put all business affairs aside and take his wife down to Court Manor. So, on the afternoon following her visit to the late baronet, Margery was carried away from London to her new home. When she arrived it was too dark for her to see her surroundings; but the pure freshness of the country air, the silence after the bustle and noise of the London streets, the faint soughing of the wind in the trees, brought a thrill of peace and gladness to her, and as she stood at the low, wide door and gazed around the quaint, rambling hall she looked so pleased and comforted that the earl’s heart rejoiced. It was a delightful old-world place. The corners and crevices, the rooms filled with serviceable furniture of no modern date, the smell of the flowers, the glow of the firelight--all seemed to speak of home. It was a haven of rest and quiet after the storm of the past few months. And if at night this feeling came, it was even stronger in the morning. As she drew her curtains aside and looked out over the wide vista of country, Margery gave a little sigh of relief. Here she had nothing to fear, nothing to remind her of the past; here it would be easy to forget and grow content. The pain that contracted Nugent’s heart as he stood once more in his old home ceased when he saw the glow of hope, love, and happiness on his wife’s delicate, lovely face, and he pictured to himself a future all brightness and gladness. In both their hearts, as they entered the house, the same memory lived--the memory of Lady Enid. Margery sent up a little prayer to Heaven that she might prove grateful to the man whose heart was so tender and true, whose sufferings had been so great, and he mutely thanked his angel-sister that ere she went she bequeathed so great a treasure to him as Margery. His whole being was so impregnated with his great love that he had failed to discover the true cause of Margery’s passive gentleness. It was true he did not think her heart held so deep a love as his own; but she was young, the marriage was hurried, love must have time to grow. In time his great devotion must reap its reward. The liking she now had would change to love. He must be patient and wait. So he reasoned in his happiness, dwelling with a thrill of joy on the memory that Margery had neither relatives nor friends. This girl, the star of his life, had none but him to tend her, none but him to whom she could turn. The pleasure that Margery showed in her new home struck the final chord of happiness in his heart. The girl found much to occupy her in her new position, and her lovely face and kind words soon won the servants’ hearts, already disposed to love her for her gracious influence over their master.