Angela looked at her with eyes which saw nothing. She had thought only of Neville. But youth is never for long self-forgetful, and a great shock of pity for herself came upon her. Her quick imagination pictured to herself what should have been the scene of that greatest hour in a woman’s life. She saw herself in her bridal array, with a filmy veil falling around her and a group of rosebud bridesmaids attending her, and all things irradiated with joy and peace; the sound of wedding merriment in the old house, felicitations on every lip, sympathy in every heart, and now how bleak, how drear, how tragic was this wedding! She arranged her hair, scarcely knowing what she was doing, and submitted to have Mammy Tulip put on her a white gown and to throw a white scarf over her head; then carrying her red mantle over her arm, followed by Mammy Tulip, in lieu of a train of maids, she went down the broad stair. Colonel Tremaine still sat on the settee upon the landing. Whether his heart would not let him lose the last view of his eldest-born or the strange weakness, which had overcome him, would not permit him to move, Angela could not tell. Archie, with a frightened face, still sat by him. Angela stopped in front of him for a moment. She had never looked into his face before without seeing kindness there, but now all was sternness. She began to weep a little. Colonel Tremaine turned his head away. To see a woman’s tears always gave him exquisite pain, but it could not alter his resolution. Presently Angela spoke: “Won’t you come and see us married, Neville and me?” “No,” answered Colonel Tremaine, in a voice that admitted of no appeal. Angela went downstairs. Whether Mrs. Tremaine would have yielded Angela did not know, but Colonel Tremaine’s refusal had frightened her. She stopped before Mrs. Tremaine, and the two women eyed each other with somber but uncertain eyes. Then Angela passed on and went out of the small door in the corridor by the study. Outside Neville was standing. He took the mantle from her arm and placed it around her, “Come,” he said, “we shall have an hour to wait until Richard returns. We need not ask the hospitality even of the Harrowby lawn or garden. We can sit in the boat; the river, at least, is a highway free to all.”