So the prodigal son had returned after his perilous wanderings in far lands, and his home circle killed the fatted calf and made merry in token of rejoicing. When Una saw how haggard the young man was in appearance and how depressed in mind, she felt deeply grateful to Providence that the chance words of Nestley had led her to write the letter which had induced her lover to return. Now that he was once more by her side she determined that nothing should every part them again, and longed eagerly for the marriage to take place which should give her the right to go through life by his side. Doubtless many people would consider such longing hardly compatible with maiden modesty, but Una was too pure and sensible a woman to look at things in such a false light. She ardently loved Reginald and he returned that love, why then should she, for the sake of conventional appearance, risk her life's happiness by delay, seeing that everything was now at stake? No! she was determined to get married to Reginald as soon as possible, so that he would not be lured to destruction by evil counsel and wicked companions. It was not that she mistrusted her lover, for she well knew his straightforward, honourable nature, but it was better to leave nothing to chance, as even the strongest of men is not proof against temptation. A week after Reginald arrived they were seated in Dr. Larcher's study talking over the question of the marriage, and the vicar was inclined to agree with their desire that it should be soon, although he was unwilling they should be blamed for undue haste. "The world, my dear Una, is censorious," he said, wisely, "and as the Squire has only been dead two months it will be as well to wait a little longer." "I suppose so," replied Una with a sigh, "although I do not see it would mean any disrespect to his memory if we got married at once." "No doubt, no doubt--still, _medio tutissimus ibis_, and I think it will be wiser for you both to put off the marriage for at least three months." "Three months," said Reginald, with a groan, "that's as bad as three years, but I suppose we must--I will stay at Garsworth in the meantime." "Of course, my dear boy, of course," answered the vicar, crossing his legs and placing his thumbs and forefingers together, "you can take up your old life again." "Ah, never! never again," said the young man, shaking his head sadly, "the old life is dead and done with. I have eaten of the tree of knowledge, and the fruit is bitter." "My dear Reginald," said Una, crossing over to him and putting her kind arms round his neck, "you must not be so despondent--it is not your fault." "The sins of the father are visited on the children," he replied gloomily, "if it had been anything else I would not have minded--but to be what I am--a nobody--entitled to bear no name--it is bitter, very bitter indeed. I've no doubt I should be above such petty pride, still I am but mortal, and disgrace is hard to bear."