As soon as practicable after his release he married Gwendolen, and spent the winter and spring with her abroad, only returning when early summer was painting the Manor House garden in its fairest colours of leaf and flower.
Mrs. Austen welcomed them with delight, gladly abdicating her position as regent of the Manor House in favour of its new mistress, and returning with unfeigned relief to the familiar surroundings of her own home at The Grange.
"No, I won't stay to-night," she said, after giving them the sort of welcome one can only get in English homes. "You don't really want me, and I must go and sacrifice to my own household gods. I've deserted them much too long as it is."
So the night of their return they dined alone, and after dinner walked down to the houseboat. It was inevitable that their doing so should recall sharply all the story in which they had played so important a part, and for the first time for months they spoke of it by mutual accord.
"This houseboat will always be associated in my mind with some of the supreme moments in my life," Gwendolen said softly. "It was here that you proposed to me, here that Mr. Anstruther arrested you, and here that we are spending our first evening together at home—all three times when one's heart seems full to bursting."
Ralph looked at her gravely.
"Last time was a bad one, Gwen," he said, in his deep voice. "It was an awful business!"
She stroked his hand, and the hard lines in his face were softened.
"Let it make the present good time seem all the better by contrast," she rejoined. "After all, God's in His heaven, Ralph."
"Yes," he said slowly, "I suppose so; but that wasn't the thought that kept my pluck up during those weeks of suspense."