privacy of her own thoughts--yes, and several times to her daughter--she
sighed deeply over this late kindness of Lord and Lady Harlow. She
wished that Jane had been asked before she was engaged; nobody knew in
that case what good fortune might have come. It was such a pity!

Mrs. Harlow's removal was not completed until Christmas was so close at
hand that it was thought best to make it the time for their return home.
It was really John and Mrs. Hatton who managed the whole business of the
removal, and to their efforts the complete comfort--and even beauty--of
the old residence was due. But the days spent in this work were days
full of the sweet intimacies of love. John could never forget one hour
of them, and it added to their charm to see and hear Martha Hatton
everywhere, her hands making beauty and comfort, her voice sounding like
a cheerful song in all the odd corners and queer places of the house.

Upon the whole it was a wonderful Christmas, but when it was over the
realities of life were to face. Jane was going to London and John
wondered how he was to bear the days without her. In the spring he would
begin to build the house for himself he had long contemplated building.
The plan of it had been fully explained to Jane, and had been approved
by her, and John was resolved to break ground for the foundation as soon
as it was possible to do so. And he calculated somewhat on the diversion
he would find in building a home for the woman he so dearly loved.

Then the parting came, and John with tears and misgivings sent his
darling into the unknown world of London. It was a great trial to him;
fears and doubts and sad forebodings gave him tragic hours. It was a new
kind of loneliness that he felt; nothing like it had ever come to him
before.