Mrs. de Burgh had persuaded her husband that it was quite indispensable for her well-doing that her confinement--expected in January--should occur under the auspices of a celebrated London practitioner, and Mr. de Burgh, very persuadable on this anxious point, had taken a house for the occasion. "And then of course," Mrs. de Burgh resumed complacently, "we shall remain for the season. I shall then be able to look out for a nursery governess for the children, and be in town for your wedding, dear Mary, all quite comfortably." Mary, nevertheless, was not to continue the guest of her cousins in Brook Street, though they expressed their willingness to accommodate her therein; she preferred, all things considered, to avail herself of the invitation of her former guardians, the uncle and aunt Majoribanks, to visit them in their roomy mansion in Portman Square. Trevor was anxious that his marriage should take place, if possible, very early in the spring, and the preliminaries necessary to that event were to be set on foot immediately after the assemblage of the aforesaid parties in town; whilst to thicken the plot, and to render the aspect of coming events still more _couleur de rose_ in the eyes of the happy _fiancée_, the morning before Arthur's arrival, Mary received a letter from her sister Agnes, announcing--along with many delighted and affectionate congratulations from the late bride on the event, which was to render her dear Mary, she hoped, as happy as herself in her new estate--the joyful news of her intended return to England in time to take upon herself the management and superintendance of her sister's wedding; for kind Sir Hugh insisted that it should be his part to give the wedding breakfast, at the best house he could take for the occasion; whilst at the same time, it seems the worthy baronet and his young wife had gone so far as to decide that the intended couple could do no better than repair to the baronet's seat in Wales after the happy event for, their honeymoon, Glan Pennant being now let to strangers. * * * * * Poor Mary! she had been taking a long and delightful ride with her lover the day after Arthur left Silverton. There had been no shadow, no cloud, cast upon the calm, confiding transport of her heart, as they discussed together their happy prospects--the episode of that Sunday walk had never been in the slightest degree renewed, nay, seemed as if by either party quite forgotten. Trevor was more gay, more gentle, more tender this day than she had ever seen him; and when he lifted her from her horse at the door at Silverton, and as he did so, caught the faintest sound of a gentle, breeze-like sigh heaved from her bosom, he, with an anxious solicitude which made Mary smile, looked into her face, and asked quite fearfully, "why she so sighed?" "I do not know, indeed, dear Eugene," was the reply, "unless it be that I am _too happy_." * * * * *