But he did not tell her--such a thought never entered his mind. So day by day her youth and innocent gayety only alienated him more, until he grew to look upon her as a mere child, who must be petted and humored, but who could never be his friend. Yes, he was bringing home his bride to Redmond Hall, and that bride was not Margaret. In place of Margaret's grand face, framed in its dead-brown hair and deep, pathetic eyes, was a childish face, with a small rosebud mouth that was just now quivering and plaintive. "Dear Hugh, I am so very tired, and you will not talk to me," in a sad babyish voice. "Will talking rest you, Birdie," asked Hugh, dropping his paper and taking the listless little hand kindly. Fay drooped her head, for she was ashamed of the bright drops that stole through her lashes from very weariness. Hugh would think her babyish and fretful. She must not forget she was Lady Redmond; so she answered without looking up, "We have been traveling since day-break this morning, you know, Hugh, and it is all so fresh and strange to me, and I want to hear your voice to make it seem real somehow; perhaps I feel stupid because I am tired, but I had an odd fancy just now that it was all a dream, and that I should wake up in my little room at the cottage and find myself again Fay Mordaunt." "Is not the new name prettier, dear?" observed her husband, gently. Fay colored and hesitated, and finally hid her face in shy fashion on Hugh's shoulder, while she glanced at the little gold ring that shone so brightly in the dusk. "Fay Redmond," she whispered. "Oh yes, it is far prettier," and a tender smile came to her face, an expression of wonderful beauty. "Did ever name sound half so sweet as that?" "What is my Wee Wifie thinking about?" asked Hugh at last, rousing himself with difficulty from another musing fit. Fay raised her head with a little dignity. "I wish you would not call me that, Hugh." "Not call you what?" in genuine astonishment. "Why, are you not my Wee Wifie? I think it is the best possible name I could find for you; is it not pretty enough for your ladyship?" "Yes, but it is so childish and will make people smile, and Aunt Griselda would be shocked, and--" but here she broke off, flushed and looking much distressed. "Nay, give me all your reasons," said Hugh, kindly. "I can not know all that is in my little wife's heart yet." But Hugh, as he said this, sighed involuntarily, as he thought how little he cared to trace the workings of that innocent young mind. The gentleness of his tone gave Fay courage. "I don't know, of course--at least I forget--but I am really sure that--that--'The Polite Match-Maker' would not consider it right." "What?" exclaimed Hugh, opening his eyes wide and regarding Fay with amazement.