in the proceedings.  Then when he had given full play to his indignation, Stephen began to make plans for the future which might effectually defeat any attempts on the part of the young people to renew their intimacy.  Spence, of course, was absolutely forbidden to set foot again over the threshold of the inn.  Penny was kept under strict surveillance until her father was able to carry her off to a sister of his own in distant Lancashire, who could be depended upon to prevent any communication between the lovers.  The Pikes—­poor people—­though absolutely innocent of any complicity, since they knew no more of what was going on than Stephen himself, were made to share in Spence’s interdict.  No assurances of their total ignorance of the affair would avail; the fact that Pike had been the unfortunate instrument in introducing his comrade to the Dale family was in itself sufficient to kindle Stephen’s wrath against him.  To add to the sergeant’s discomfiture, he could not forget that in his admiration for his “chum” he had been unstinting in his praises; for he had a genuine affectionate regard for Spence, as a thoroughly upright young fellow, and a striking contrast to the majority of the Protestants with whom he was daily brought into contact.

The unhappy Penny, placed under her aunt’s vigilant guardianship, was inconsolable.  She languished and drooped, during the first week or two of her exile, as though her usually firm will had died within her.  So utterly broken did she seem that her aunt began to lose all hope of rousing her to any interest in life; apparently she was submitting in a spirit of blank despair to a fate which she regarded as inevitable.  But soon a change came over her.  Though still quiet and seemingly docile, she gained by degrees some vestiges of her old cheerfulness and gaiety.  Her guardian’s watchfulness inadvertently relaxed, for it appeared no longer necessary.

But the unfortunate woman had a sad awakening.  One morning the girl went out alone—­ostensibly to Mass; the day wore on, and to her aunt’s consternation no Penny put in an appearance.  An explanation arrived next morning by letter.  Penny’s lover had contrived to communicate with her and to arrange a meeting in Liverpool, where they had been married; by the time the letter arrived at its destination the couple were on the way to Ireland, whither Spence’s regiment had been just transferred.

The two years that followed were, for the most part, years of happiness for the sergeant and his bride.  Penny’s conscience had been at first greatly troubled by her sacrilegious marriage before a registrar, on account of the inevitable haste with which it had to be carried through.  She bitterly deplored her weakness for many a long day, even after she had done all that was possible to atone for her sin by a sincere Confession.  Her husband could not be expected to realize as she did the gravity of her offense against religion; but he sympathized with her distress, and did all that lay in his power, by unceasing care and devotion, to comfort her.  By degrees his lavish affection tended to deaden for the time the keenness of her remorse.