"Thank Heaven!" said Lance. "Now Frances is free. She will have gone to her room. That good Lady Ledbitter has robbed us of a pleasant hour."
I was surprised and delighted at the magnificence of the grounds. I had never dreamed that Dutton manor-house was so extensive or so beautiful.
"The great artist, Lilias, is coming here next week," said Lance. "I want him to paint my wife's portrait. She will make a superb picture, and when completed, that picture shall have the place of honor here in the drawing-room. You will enjoy meeting him; he is a most intelligent, amiable man."
That good Lance; it seemed to me quite impossible that he could speak even these words without bringing in Frances; but how bright and happy he looked! I envied him.
"Do as I have done, John," he said "Marry. Believe me, no man knows what happiness means until he does marry."
"You must find me a wife just like your own," I said, and the words came back to me afterward with a fervent prayer of "Heaven forbid!—may Heaven forbid!"
"I shall never marry now, Lance," I said. "The only woman I could ever love is dead to me."
He looked at me very earnestly.
"I wish you would forget all about her, John. She was not worthy of you."
"Perhaps not," I replied; "but that does not interfere with the love."