The servants came filing in. Martin Lister woke with a start, and Gilbert
Fenton knelt down among his sister's household to make his evening
orisons. But his thoughts were not easily to be fixed that night. They
wandered very wide of that simple family prayer, and made themselves into
a vision of the future, in which he saw his life changed and brightened
by the companionship of a fair young wife.




CHAPTER II.

MARIAN'S STORY.


The days passed, and there was no more dulness or emptiness for Gilbert
Fenton in his life at Lidford. He went every day to the white-walled
cottage on the green. It was easy enough to find some fresh excuse for
each visit--a book or a piece of music which he had recommended to Miss
Nowell, and had procured from London for her, or something of an equally
frivolous character. The Captain was always cordial, always pleased to
see him. His visits were generally made in the evening; and it was his
delight to linger over the pretty little round table by the bow-window,
drinking tea dispensed by Marian. The bright home-like room, the lovely
face turned so trustingly to his; these were the things which made that
fair vision of the future that haunted him so often now. He fancied
himself the master of some pretty villa in the suburbs--at Kingston or
Twickenham, perhaps--with a garden sloping down to the water's edge, a
lawn on which he and his wife and some chosen friend might sit after