Then the door-handle turned noisily to admit Mrs. Fenchurch, and her newly pledged niece rose hastily to her feet, and all but ran out of the room. Dorothy Fenchurch sat late that night, writing her great news on her best crested paper, to all her most important correspondents. She and Hugo, as she now called him, had had a talk: the wedding could take place soon--there was really nothing to wait for. Tom Fenchurch was, of course, brought into the consultation: he had lately begun to think that Blagdon was not such a bad sort, and that Letty might make something of him, after all--though down in his heart he did not approve of the match; but who could withstand Dorothy? Now, as he took part in and listened to this discussion, his contribution consisted of the words, repeated over and over again: “Too young, too young; the child is too young; much too young.” But it was as the voice of one crying in a wilderness, Tom Fenchurch was in the minority, the vote for an early wedding was easily carried, and a notice to _The Morning Post_ to that effect, clinched the business. Telegrams and letters poured in upon clever Mrs. Fen: congratulating her upon this, her most glorious achievement; not only was she the best housekeeper, the best gardener, the best judge of old furniture in the land, she had now crowned all her successes by marrying her niece to the greatest _parti_ in the County! Naturally there were some spiteful and envious detractors, and one or two disappointed matrons shook their heads, and confided to their friends that, “They were _sorry_ for the poor little girl.” The trousseau engrossed a good deal of time. Mrs. Fenchurch and her niece made many trips to London for shopping and fittings--fashionable frocks, far, far beyond the ability, but not the ambition, of Mrs. Cope. Owing to these absences, and Blagdon’s own engagements, the happy pair did not see much of one another. Once or twice he came over and stayed at The Holt for a week-end, bringing wonderful offerings for his fiancée. He was absurdly proud of Letty, but surprisingly discreet and thoughtful. Colonel Tom assured his quaking heart, that the match might turn out all right after all! His wife had no fears. Letty noticed, with grateful surprise, how extremely kind and friendly everyone had become; people to whom she was almost a stranger, and various far-away and important visitors, came to The Holt, talked to her with unaffected interest, and gazed at her curiously. One and all, offered their warmest congratulations, and declared that they would call as soon as ever she was settled at Sharsley. But Mrs. Hesketh was discontented--her normal attitude--she refused to be reasoned with, overpowered with grandeur or talked down. Her own married life had not been happy, and the first time she was alone with Letty she said: