A fierce spasm of jealousy almost robbed me of my breath.

“Did she—­did she—­”

Then I could get no further.

“No, Agatha did not like Miles, if that is what you mean?”

“Did Miles love her?”

“I cannot tell—­there was something very mysterious about him.  He looked to me like one who had a secret on his mind.  I have often wondered what it could be.  He was not a happy man of late years.”

“You have not told me yet, Lady Thesiger, if I have your good wishes.”

She held out her hand with a gracious, kindly smile.

“Shall I tell you the truth—­no flattery, but just the simple truth?  I would rather Agatha married you than any other man in the nation.  She has not only my full consent, but I am pleased, proud and happy.”

“And Sir John, shall I have his consent?”

“There is little doubt of it.  I hear him now—­he has just arrived, I suppose.  You shall see him at once.”

I rode away from Harden Manor that night a happy man.  Sir John, like Lady Thesiger, gave his full, free, unhesitating consent.  We had a long, confidential conversation.  He told me how his affairs stood.  He was a wealthy man, but his expenses were great.  He told me frankly that he should not be able to give Agatha a large portion at her marriage, nor could he leave her anything considerable at his death.  Harden Manor, with its rich revenues, was all entailed on his son.

“So that I am glad, Sir Edgar,” he said, “she is likely to marry a rich man.  She has been brought up in all luxury, and would never be able to bear privation.  I shall feel satisfied of her future now.”

Alas! so did I. I rode home through the sweet, gathering gloom and the starlight, one of the happiest men in England.  I had won my love.  She loved me whom I loved best.

There seemed to be nothing wanting then.  Two short years ago I was poor, my daily life one of monotonous toil, without the least hope of relief.  Now the silvery moon fell upon the woods and silvered the roof of the grand old mansion, and all this fair land over which I was riding was mine.

Coralie was waiting for me.  She affected to be just crossing the hall, but I knew that she had been waiting there to have the first word with me.  She looked eagerly into my face.

“How long you have been away, Sir Edgar!  Surely the starlight agrees with you.  I have coffee ready for you in the drawing-room—­you have dined, I suppose?”

“Yes, I dined at Harden Manor.  I have been there all day.”

A dark cloud came for a moment over her radiant face.

“All day,” she repeated.  “Ah, poor Miles!  If he rode over in the morning they were always sure to make him stay to the evening, if they could.”

“If Miles found the place as pleasant as I do, the length of his visits would not surprise me,” I said, laughingly.  “I will run up to see Clare first and then try your coffee, Coralie.”