A very brief survey, however, sufficed to convince her of the happiness of Felix and Rona. There was no mistaking the light in the girl's eyes, nor the significance of her added bloom and sweetness. With regard to Denzil she was not so sure. When she actually saw the lady upon whom he had fixed his mature affections, she was invaded with a wonder as to what they would make of a life together in England in the provinces. Nadia was lovely, and in her presence he was evidently so moved out of himself that he could not reason, he could only feel. But his temperament was wholly unromantic, because unimaginative. As time went on, would he be able to sustain the standard of feeling which the highly-wrought, emotional girl demanded? Aunt Bee fell back upon the comforting thought that such girls, when touched by marriage and motherhood, often settle down into quite humdrum persons. Meanwhile, the troubling of his whole being which the Squire was undergoing was no doubt an excellent thing for him. Had he married Rona, he would--nay, he must--have remained King Cophetua to the end of the chapter, horribly pleased with himself. If anything would ennoble his character, the experience of being Nadia's husband would be likely to do it. It was better so. Before their marriage Miss Rawson took an opportunity privately to tell Felix and Rona all that she had learned from Rankin Leigh. They listened with interest, and Rona was evidently gratified to ascertain that she had no need to be ashamed of her mother. Aunt Bee suggested that it might be well to announce her existence, or in some way approach her father's family, since there was no doubt at all of her being the eldest daughter of John Mauleverer. Rona turned to Felix, as usual; he to her. Their eyes met, and they smiled. "As Rona likes, of course," said Felix, "but I hardly see any reason for our troubling them. The present Mrs. Mauleverer apparently knows nothing at all of her late husband's former marriage. Would not the disclosure wound her, cruelly and unnecessarily? We have nothing to ask from them. Affection they are not likely to bestow, money we do not want. Were Rona's father living, it might be her duty to go to him. As it is, there does not seem to be a question of duty. Moreover, if they are such a high and mighty set of people, how would they like to know that she was married to a man of my record?" Rona turned to him, her face alive with championship. "I want nothing," said she, "from my father's people. My name is neither Leigh nor Mauleverer: it is Vanston. But, for all that, one day I shall go and see them, and let them know who I am, simply in order that they may have the privilege of knowing--_my husband_." THE END