“Yes, dear heart of my heart, all is made up to me now,” said Alexander, folding her fondly to his heart.
And the night that he had dreaded so much closed in this perfect peace.
CHAPTER XIX.
A NEGLECTED WIFE.
He saw proud Clara’s face more fair,
He knew her of broad lands the heir,
Forgot his vows, his faith foreswore,
And Constance was beloved no more.—Scott.
The day and night described in the last chapter were the types of many, too many days and nights that followed them. Alexander Lyon had placed himself in a false position and had a very difficult part to play between his wife and his betrothed.
On the morning after that little supper the young couple slept late; because on the previous evening they had found their bright fireside so delightful that they had remained there billing and cooing like a pair of lovers, as they still were, until the small hours, when at length they went to rest.
She was the first of the two to rise in the morning; for she was an ardent little housewife, and she liked to have everything about her small home in perfect order.