"I forgot," he said, "that all places so familiar to me are strange to you. One of my father's titles is Baron Dunmore, and his London residence is called Dunmore House. We shall meet him there to-morrow, and then you will be my wife."
For the first time she realized what an immense difference there was in their positions. She glanced at him in sudden fear.
"Lance," she said, "shall I seem very much out of place in your home, and among your friends?"
"My darling, you would grace any home," he replied; "mine has had no fairer mistress in all the generations it has stood."
"I am half frightened," she said, gently.
"You need not be, sweet. Before this time next year all London will know and admire the beautiful Lady Chandos."
"It seems a long leap to take in life," she said, "from being Farmer Noel's niece to bear the name of Lady Chandos."
"You will grace the name, Leone," he replied. "I shall be the proudest man in England—I shall have the most beautiful wife in England. This is our last separation, our last parting; after this, we need never part."
He stooped down and caught some of the running water in his hand.
"A libation," he said, as he poured it back again. "I feel as though I were losing a friend when I leave the mill-stream."