They reached her chair under the limes. The golden dust of evening hovered in the chilling air; overhead the sky was a fading blue, and the fragrant leaves shivered together. The grey eyes of Rose Lyndwood laughed into the fair face of Frances Beale, and for a moment she forgot that there were many to mark it. "Till to-night, _au revoir_," she said, and her lips quivered. He had possession of her hand for some seconds. When at last she drew up the glass and her chair was borne away down the Mall, he sauntered idly in the opposite direction. The long walks emptied as the sky filled with deep and pure gold and the encroaching shadows merged into one darkness over the park. Rose Lyndwood leant against the posts that bordered the grass, and drew a letter from his pocket, the latter part of which he re-read in the waning afterglow: "... _Marius_ is staying with _Mr. Brereton_ now; I had his Confidences before he left. Had You heard You had pitied! He is very much in Love. He does not, it seems, know her Name, though she has his. He is awaiting her letter in an ardour _Beautiful_ to behold. "I tell You this to put a gloss upon his Selfishness. He is frankly _Pleased_ at your Marriage and the prospect it unfolds for him. He desires you will write to him to let him know your Commands about his attendance at the Ceremony. "_My Lady_ has forgiven you; indeed, I think has forgotten that she Ever reproached you. She makes complaint of _Miss Hilton's_ lack of Pedigree, but wishes her friendship. I think she is not Eager to go to _London_ for the Wedding, which she desires to be very Private, so as not to make a show of a necessity; but this must be as you Wish. "From what you say of _Miss Hilton_ I think she must be Good and Sweet. Convey our duty to her; we shall be glad when you bring her to _Lyndwood_. "We are very Quiet here now _Marius_ has gone, and the white Roses that are Just coming to a bloom are become my best Companions.--Your dutiful cousin, "SUSANNAH CHRESSHAM. "POSTSCRIPTUM.--I have had no Letter for a long While from _Miss Boyle_. Is she still in _Bristol_? I heard you had met her at _The Wells_. I would be Obliged if you would Tell me if she be in _London_ and at what address.--S. C." Rose Lyndwood folded up the letter, returned it to his pocket, and walked idly through the twilight streets to his mansion near Panton Square. His solitary and splendid dinner over, he answered his cousin's letter in this manner, writing with a steady hand but showing a face which reflected emotions not to be forever repressed: "MY COUSIN,--Accept my dear thanks, and this brief answer, for your Epistle, which was pleasant to receive and to read. "The marriage is for the 3rd of _July_ in _St. James's Church_. Very few will be present. I shall not desire my Lady's attendance.