"I will submit," she said. "I will leave my fate to Providence."
When morning dawned she went to her room; she did not wish the household to know that she had sat up and watched the night through.
Once out of the house, Lord Arleigh seemed to realize for the first time what had happened; with a gesture of despair he threw himself back in the carriage. The footman came to him.
"Where to, my lord--to Beechgrove?"
"No," replied Lord Arleigh--"to the railway station. I want to catch the night-mail for London."
Lord Arleigh was just in time for the train. The footman caught a glimpse of his master's face as the train went off--it was white and rigid.
"Of all the weddings in this world, well, this is the queerest!" he exclaimed to himself.
When he reached Beechgrove, he told his fellow-servants what had happened, and many were the comments offered about the marriage that was yet no marriage--the wedding that was no wedding--the husband and wife who were so many miles apart. What could it mean?
Chapter XXIX.
Three days after Lord Arleigh's most inauspicious marriage. The Duchess of Hazlewood sat in her drawing-room alone. Those three days had changed her terribly; her face had lost its bloom, the light had died from her dark eyes, there were great lines of pain round her lips. She sat with her hands folded listlessly, her eyes, full of dreamy sorrow, fixed on the moving foliage of the woods. Presently Lady Peters entered with an open newspaper in her hand.