“He is quite dead,” said Alan lifting a pale face from an examination. “And that beast Sorley lives,” snarled Miss Grison viciously, and spat at her husband. CHAPTER XXII CALM AFTER STORM In the month of July the park of The Monastery was in full leafage, and presented a glorious sea of shimmering tremulous green. The gardens glowed with many-colored blossoms, and especially there was a profusion of roses, red and white and yellow, for Marie Inderwick, loving flowers, had planted quantities immediately after her return home from the Brighton school. The whole place was radiant with color under a cloudless and deeply blue sky, and the hot sunshine bathed everything in hues of gold. It was like the Garden of Eden, and neither Adam nor Eve were wanting, since the lovers were walking therein, arm in arm, talking of the past, congratulating themselves on the present, and looking forward to a serene and glorious future. The storm was over, and now a halcyon calm prevailed. “It’s like heaven,” sighed Miss Inderwick, whose face glowed like one of the roses she wore at her breast, from sheer happiness, “and to think that we shall be married to-morrow, Alan dearest.” “Then it will be more like heaven than ever,” laughed the young man, who looked the picture of content. “Let us go to St. Peter’s Dell, Marie darling; for it was there that we found the jewels.” “Rather the papers which led to the finding of the jewels,” corrected Miss Inderwick gladly, “and it’s a nice place to make love in, Alan, for I have planted it with roses.” “The Gardens of Shiraz, where Omar Khayyam sang,” said the happy young lover, and quoted the well known lines softly:— “Here with a loaf of bread, beneath the bough, A flask of wine: a book of verse—and Thou, Beside me singing in the wilderness, And wilderness is Paradise enow.” “Oh, we don’t want the bread and wine,” laughed Marie indolently, as they took their way to the dell along a path riotous with blossom. “Bread and cheese then.” “You have left out the best thing, dear.” “Kisses, eh? Well then.” Alan stopped, took her into his strong arms and kissed her twice, thrice, and again on her rose-leaf lips. “I wish you’d behave yourself,” said Marie sedately, “as to bread and cheese we have something better than that now.” “_You_ have,” said Alan quickly, “the jewels have brought close on one hundred thousand pounds, which all belong to you.” “What is mine is yours, darling. You know that.” “Yet nasty people will say that I married you for your money, Marie.” She pouted. “What a compliment to me, as if I were an ugly girl.” “Quite so, instead of being the most perfect woman ever created.” “Oh,” Marie sighed from sheer pleasure, “say that again.” Alan did so with a laugh. “Marie, will you ever have enough flattery.” “It’s not flattery, it’s the truth, and I like you always to tell me the truth,” said Marie as they entered the dell. “Come and sit down on the edge of the pool, Alan, and have a talk.”