He dropped the hand, and motioned to her father to load her to the carriage. Then winding his arm into Sidney's, he said,—
"Wait till they are gone: I have one word yet with you. Go on, gentlemen."
The clergyman bowed, and walked through the churchyard. But Lilburne, pausing and surveying Philip Beaufort, said to him, whisperingly,—
"And so much for feeling—the folly! So much for generosity—the delusion! Happy man!"
"I am thoroughly happy, Lord Lilburne."
"Are you?—Then, it was neither feeling nor generosity; and we were taken in! Good day." With that he limped slowly to the gate.
Philip answered not the sarcasm even by a look. For at that moment a loud shout was set up by the mob without—they had caught a glimpse of the bride.
"Come, Sidney, this way." he said; "I must not detain you long."
Arm in arm they passed out of the church, and turned to the spot hard by, where the flowers smiled up to them from the stone on their mother's grave.
The old inscription had been effaced, and the name of CATHERINE BEAUFORT was placed upon the stone. "Brother," said Philip, "do not forget this grave: years hence, when children play around your own hearth. Observe, the name of Catherine Beaufort is fresher on the stone than the dates of birth and death—the name was only inscribed there to-day—your wedding- day. Brother, by this grave we are now indeed united."