It must be confessed, however, that her wedding was not the bright success that Beatrix's had been. It was, at the outset, one of those social functions which were to be dropped out of Caroline's life altogether. Maurice was not calculated to shine in them, in any capacity, least of all as a leading figure. He was as well dressed as he ever could be--Worthing had seen to that--but he did not look at ease in his wedding garments, and his almost bucolic air was heightened rather than diminished by them. Also he looked extraordinarily young; and a man who depends on the virile force within him, and lacks most of the graces of youth, does not show to any advantage until the years have passed over his head. The contrast between him and Caroline, in the full flower of her young grace and beauty, was so marked as scarcely to escape the notice of the most sympathetic, and there were many there who were far from being sympathetic with a marriage which in their view was nothing short of a misalliance. Nobody expressed this view to Grafton, but those who held it showed themselves rather too careful not to. Its atmosphere was all around him, and he felt more uncomfortable and doubtful than at any time since he had brought himself to consent. When the bride and bridegroom had driven off he was feeling so depressed that he determined to escape his duties as host for a time, and slip out for a walk. There was nearly an hour of winter twilight left, and a sharp frost. A fast walk would brace him in mind and body. He went upstairs to change his clothes. He could get down by a staircase at the other end of the corridor and escape from the house without being seen, except perhaps by some of the servants. As he slipped into a tweed suit and put on a pair of thick-soled boots his unease of mind deepened. His black hour was upon him. Only at the death of his wife sixteen years before had he felt the heavy weight upon his mind that he felt now. But for that one big grief he had dwelt in the sunshine of prosperity, pleasure, the liking of his friends, the love of his children. The upset of mind he had endured over Beatrix a year before had been by far the biggest that had troubled him for all those long years, and that had never brought him the black cloud that was settling on him now.