"It might perhaps be better--if Chartley cannot rule Chartley. But happily there is no chance of my being pressed on this sad subjects for weeks or months to come, as I learn from Constance that the king has refused to give an immediate consent; for which I could almost say, Heaven bless him." "That is happy news indeed," answered Chartley; "and yet, Iola, I could wish that if a struggle is to be made, it might be soon made; for nothing is so painful as uncertainty." "All men are alike in that, I see," replied Iola; "we women love to put off the evil day." "It may indeed, in this instance, be as well," answered Chartley, "for it gives time for preparation; and that I will commence at once." "Preparation for what?" demanded Iola in some surprise. "For any thing that may occur," replied Chartley; "but for one thing we must both be prepared, sweet Iola--for flight--ay, flight to distant lands, love; for think not that if we venture to unite our fate by the dearest and the holiest rite, against the consent of your family, in defiance of their contract, and without the king's permission, this land will be safe for us thenceforward. Richard is well fitted to find treason in such acts; and, if he cannot part you from your husband, to take your husband's head. My preparation therefore must be, not only to secure a refuge in another land, but to provide means there, to keep us from poverty or dependence. But that will be easily accomplished. Will you regret it, Iola? Will you shrink from it--to pass some few years with Chartley on a foreign shore, and leave this fair land and all the memories of home behind you?" "No, oh no!" she answered; "I will neither shrink nor regret. My home will ever be with my heart--" she paused, and the crimson spread gently over her cheek, as she felt how much her words implied. Her eyes too, sunk under the warm, and tender, and grateful gaze which was bent upon her; but the next moment she asked, in her low sweet tones--"Will you never regret, Chartley? Will you never think that you have paid for Iola's hand too dear a price, when memory turns back to your native land, high station, wealth, ambition, all sacrificed for her?" "Never," answered Chartley; "were it to cost me all, and leave us but a cabin and bare food, I would not hesitate now, or regret hereafter. I do but change dross for a jewel of inestimable price, and I will value it ever as I do now." They were both silent for several minutes; and then, as they turned the north western angle of the walls, they saw the sun setting in the splendour of scattered clouds, and Constance and Sir William Anton advancing towards them. Iola perceived that her cousin's step wanted its quiet steadiness; and when her eye fixed on her face, a blush rose in Constance's cheek.