"There was nothing in his past life to which I should object?" she
ventured timidly.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," he assured her. "He has been perfectly
straightforward about himself, and I am satisfied that he will make you an
excellent husband."

It was all the assurance she required, and after she had received it she
gave herself up to her happiness without a doubt, and unreservedly.

The time flew. Major Colquhoun's leave expired, and he was obliged to
return to his regiment at Shorncliffe; but they wrote to each other every
day, and this constant communion was a new source of delight to Evadne.
Just before they left Fraylingay she went to see her aunt, Mrs. Orton Beg.
The latter had sprained her ankle severely, and would therefore not be
able to go to Evadne's wedding. She lived in Morningquest, and had a
little house in the Close there. Morningquest was only twenty miles from
Fraylingay, but the trains were tiresomely slow, and did not run in
connection, so that it took as long to get there as it did to go to
London, and people might live their lives in Fraylingay, and know nothing
of Morningquest.

Mrs. Orton Beg's husband was buried in the old cathedral city, and she
lived there to be near his grave. She could never tear herself away from
it for long together. The light of her life had gone out when he died, and
was buried with him; but the light of her love, fed upon the blessed hope
of immortality, burnt brighter every day.

Her existence in the quiet Close was a very peaceful, dreamy one, soothed
by the chime, uplifted by the sight of the beautiful old cathedral, and