His journey, as was not uncommon in those days, was performed on horseback with a servant charged with his valise behind him, and it was late in the day before he reached Somersbury; but it was a bright evening in May; the world was all clad in young green; the calm rich purple of the sunset spread over the whole scene; and as Wilton rode down a winding yellow road, amidst rich woods and gentle slopes of land, into the fine old park that surrounded the mansion, he could see enough to show him that all the picturesque beauty, which was far more congenial to his heart and his feelings than even the finest works of art, was there in store for him on the morrow.

On his arrival, he found the Duke delighted to receive him, though somewhat suffering from a slight attack of gout.  He was more delighted still, however, when he heard the news his young friend brought; and when, after a few moments, Laura joined him and the Duke, her eyes sparkled with double brightness, both from the feelings of her own heart at meeting again the man she loved best on earth, and from the pleasure that she saw on her father’s countenance, which told her in a moment that all the news Wilton had brought was favourable.

The result to the Duke, however, was not so satisfactory as it might have been.  In the joy of his heart he gave way somewhat more to his appetite at supper than was prudent, ate all those things that Sir George Millington, his good physician, forbade him to eat, and drank two or three glasses of wine more than his usual portion.  At the time, all this seemed to do him no harm, and he spoke somewhat crossly to his own servant who reminded him of the physician’s regulations.  He even shook his finger playfully at Laura for her grave looks upon the occasion, and during the rest of the evening was as gay as gay could be.  The consequence, however, was, that about a quarter of an hour after Wilton had descended to the breakfast-room on the following morning, Laura came down alone.

“I am sorry to say, Wilton,” she said, with a slight smile, “that my dear father has greatly increased his pain by exceeding a little last night.  He has scarcely slept at all, I find, and begs you will excuse him till dinner-time.  He leaves me to entertain you, Wilton.  Do you think I can do it?”

Wilton’s answer was easily found; and Laura passed the whole morning with him alone.

Certainly neither of the two would have purchased the pleasure at the expense of the Duke’s suffering; but yet that pleasure of being alone together was, indeed, intense and bright.  They were both very young, both fitted for high enjoyment, both loving as ardently and deeply as it is possible for human beings to love.  Through the rich and beautiful woods of the park, over the sunny lawns and grassy savannas—­where the wild deer, nested in the tall fern, raising its dark eyes and antlered head to gaze above the feathery green at the passers by—­Wilton and Laura wandered on, pouring forth the tale of affection into each other’s hearts, gazing in each other’s eyes, and seeming, through that clear window lighted up with life, to see into the deepest chambers of each other’s bosom, and there behold a treasury of joy and mutual tenderness for years to come.