sie. He he is my husband. We have been parted, but now- Oh, I do not know!"

"He loves you," whispered Bessie. "It will all come right. And you are married!" Her voice faltered with awe and gladness for Kyra's sake. "He is good: I know it! Yes, you will be happy now. I want to go home, Mary."

66

My name is Kyra," said Kyra; "but you shall call me Mary still, Bessie. And I will go home with you. Wait a moment."

She went back to the sitting-room, where Lance was pacing up and down with, it must be owned, a lover's impatience.

"She is better. I am going home with her," she said.

"Yes, certainly," he said. "Poor girl! Here is her letter. If I had only been here- But I went to Heydon toto make further enquiries. Yes, we will take her to her father."

"We?" said Kyra.

"Certainly," he said, resolutely. And he sent Spilkins for

a cab.

Lance pressed Bessie's hand as he helped her in, but little was said until they reached the Lane. John Warden and Nolly came to meet them, and it was John who almost lifted her out, lifted her out and looking down at her with a tenderness which did not escape Kyra and Lance, who exchanged significant glances.

Kyra took her upstairs, and came down presently to find Lance talking to the two amazed men.

"Bessie will tell you all," said Kyra, trying to speak calmly and to refrain from blushing. "I will come and see her tomorrow. I hope-I think-all her troubles are over," she added to John, in a low voice.

His lips moved and his honest eyes shone with gratitude, but no words came-the grasp of his hand was eloquent enough.

Lance put Kyra into the cab.

"You want to rest, dearest," he said, bending forward, his eyes pouring their love upon her.

"I-I will go home," she said. "If you will tell him to drive to Danberry Square. It is quite near here."

He stopped the cab and, getting out, gave the cabman some directions, and Kyra leant back and closed her eyes, trying to realise all that had happened. Suddenly she looked up. "We are going the wrong way," she said, in a low voice.

"I think not," responded Lance, quietly. "I am making for home."

"To Danberry Square?" she faltered.

"No; to Adelphi Terrace," he said, as quietly as before, but with his eyes smiling into her startled ones.

Then she understood, and the blood mounted to her face, and a faint exclamation escaped her lips.

"Oh-but-" she breathed. "Oh, I cannot, I cannot! Do you think I have forgotten that it was I-ah, the shame of it! I who asked you to marry me?"

"I don't forget it at all," he retorted, his voice thrilling with love; "but I also remember that I did marry you, and that you are my wife."

Her eyes drooped and she trembled, but not with fear. "But-but-it is so sudden. To-morrow-you will give me time

ور

"Not a minute, not an hour," he said, resolutely. "You have had quite long enough. This is my honey-moon, Kyra, and my wife is here, opposite me, and I am taking her home! What! Do you think I would let you go again? Never! I was a fool once, but I have learned my lesson-even a fool can do that-and I mean to profit by it. In a word: I am your husband and-your master."

How his voice, his eyes, struck upon the chords of her heart and made wild but exquisite music!

"And your slave, my own dear love!" he murmured, and he carried her hand to his lips, and pressed it against his throbbing heart.

Spilkins had become a well-trained servant, and neither by look nor word betrayed any surprise when Lance, on their arrival at Adelphi Terrace, said, quite casually:

"Spilkins, see if you can get any supper for Mrs. le Breton and me, will you?"

And even the landlady only gasped and said, "Bless my 'eart and soul, and so that beautiful lady's his wife!" when she received the order.

Was ever a bridal supper eaten under such circumstances? Was ever a bridal supper so full of joy? For to taste joy to its fulness one must have passed through such storm and stress, such misery and sorrow, as these two had passed through.

Once only Kyra's heart failed her, and almost involuntarily she set down the glass she was raising to her lips and murmured:

"May! Oh, Lance!"

But the smile did not leave his lips and his eyes met hers unflinchingly.

"May? If there is anybody who will welcome my wife with joy and gladness it will be May," he said, very quietly. "Where do you think Bertie has gone, dearest?"

"I-I quite forgot him," Kyra admitted shamefacedly. She had forgotten everything and everyone but the man opposite her her lover and husband.

Lance looked at his watch.

"If I know Bertie-and I think I do-he is on his way to Holmby by this time. He has gone to break the news-and for something else!"

CHAPTER XLIV.

THEY did not go down to Holmby for some days. Lance had written-though Bertie had been sent as courier in advance and he was naturally loth to share his happiness with anyone, even those at the Hall. He wanted Kyra all to himself, and, though that was not possible, for Kyra had to say good-bye to Mr. Sutton, and Mr. Wicks and the people at the Lane, they spent the happiest of honey-moons; for, believe me, there is no place in winter like London for two persons who love each other as these two loved.

It was Love's Land for them, and it was with something like a sigh that they tore themselves away from it and went to Holmby, where they were anxiously awaited.

They arrived one winter's evening, just before dinner, and as the great hall door was flung open May herself ran down, and, the footman making way for her, wrenched open the carriage door; and she had got Kyra in her arms before she could even utter an exclamation.

"Why, Kyra! You wicked, wicked, hard-hearted girl, how could you keep us so long!" she cried, as her dewy lips met Kyra's in a sisterly, girlish kiss, the kiss of a girl for her schoolmate and sworn other-self. "Don't tell me it's Lance's fault. I know better! I know he just simply lives to do as you like."

"Indeed, May, dear, we would have come before" began Kyra; but May could wait for no more.

"Come right in-that's American, isn't it? Bertie-I mean, Mr. Gordon," the blood rose to her fair face, "has been teaching me so much of the American language-come right in and see papa. Of course he's got the gout, but it's only a very slight attack. You won't mind if he says a swear word now and again—”

"Lord Ashleigh may say what he pleases; I shall not mind," said Kyra.

When she had drunk a cup of tea Kyra was led by May into the old earl's room.

This humble but veracious chronicler shall say nothing of the interview there; but it may be stated that when Lance appeared a little later, he met with a somewhat scornful reception.

"Oh, so you've brought her at last, have you?" remarked Lord Ashleigh, as he shook hands with his heir. "Time you did. Lance"-regretfully, and quite pityingly-"I always thought you were a sensible kind of fellow; in fact, that you were rather cute than otherwise; but I'm afraid I was wrong."

"I

"How so, sir?" asked Lance, seating himself beside the old man and laying an affectionate hand on his shoulder. never laid claim to any great amount of intelligence."

"Well for you you did not," growled the old man. "To think that any man once having got such a lovely creature as that girl who has just left me, should have let her go again! Why, you must have been a d-n fool, Lance!"

Lance nodded, and gripped the still strong, firm shoulder. "That's it in a nut-shell, sir. I was-all you call me. But, thank God, I'm not likely to be such an ass again."

"I should hope not," growled Lord Ashleigh grimly. "No man could be such a fool twice!"

After dinner was over and the two men had left the earl and the ladies in the drawing room and gone to smoke their good-night pipes in the smoking room, Bertie grew suddenly grave.

"Captain le Breton, may I have a word with you asked finally, and gazing solemnly over his pipe at Lance.

he

"Right you are. What is it? Fire away!" said Lance, rather absently, for he was thinking of the way in which Kyra had won the old earl's heart, just as she won the hearts of all with whom she came in contact.

"I have the honor to propose for the hand of Lady May Beechley," said Bertie.

Lance smiled and nodded.

"I expected this, Bertie," he said. "I've not been blind, though you may have thought I was. But why ask me? Why not ask the earl, her father, you know?"

"Asked him: was referred to you: said that all matters pertaining to the family and estate were referred to you now, the Master of Holmby."

"Oh," said Lance, with a smile. "Then I refer you to Mrs. le Breton, who is Mistress of the Master of Holmby."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" rejoined Bertie. "Right, oh! I may say that I am the only son and heir of my mother

"Not a bit of use, my dear boy!" Lance broke in, with a grin. "All Kyra will want to know is whether you love May and she loves you. Being persuaded that such is the case, Kyra wont care a brass farthing whether you are anyone's or no one's heir. See?"

"I see," said Bertie.

"Then if I get Kyra's-I beg your pardon, Mrs. le Breton's consent

"You're right so far as I'm concerned," said Lance. There was a moment or two of silence, then Bertie said, staring fixedly before him:

"They brought in accidental death, you know."

“Do you mean

"Yes; that wretched man, Stracey Froyte. They found him floating in London Pool-it's right away below the bridges, you know-and held an inquest. I was there. No, you need not blame yourself. Why should you-and Kyrahave been worried and harassed over it? I was there and gave my evidence. It seems that, after he had given me the slip, he had flung himself into the river, unnoticed."

It was some months afterward, in fact, in the late spring of the following year, that Lance and Kyra met Mrs. Froyte. They were travelling in Switzerland-a second honey-moon, Lance called it-when, at a small village near Vevey, they came upon James Froyte and his wife.

Kyra was overwhelmed, at the meeting, by the memories of the past; but Mrs. Froyte was quite calm and self-possessed; though her husband, who appeared to have sunk into premature old age, was nervous and apprehensive.

"So you will be the Countess of Ashleigh," she said calmly eyeing Kyra-distressed and troubled by the past—“a count ess. I am very glad. You know, I suppose, that James has resigned all claim to the money, that you will inherit all your father's wealth?"

Kyra, who left all business matters to her husband, did not know it, but she made a gesture which Mrs. Froyte accepted

as assent.

"I want to tell you, I have always intended to tell you, whenever I met you, that Stracey was insane!"

"Insane!" echoed Kyra.

"Yes," said Mrs. Froyte, with the same calmness and selfpossession. "His mother died in a mad-house. We kept the secret from him-if you remember I refused to tell you-but such was the case. Stracey had all the instincts, the selfish impulses, of the insane. But he is dead; and you-you are happy?"

"Very, very happy!" said Kyra, in a low voice.