"No, oh no!" she answered; "I will neither shrink nor regret. My home will ever be with my heart--" she paused, and the crimson spread gently over her cheek, as she felt how much her words implied. Her eyes too, sunk under the warm, and tender, and grateful gaze which was bent upon her; but the next moment she asked, in her low sweet tones--"Will you never regret, Chartley? Will you never think that you have paid for Iola's hand too dear a price, when memory turns back to your native land, high station, wealth, ambition, all sacrificed for her?"
"Never," answered Chartley; "were it to cost me all, and leave us but a cabin and bare food, I would not hesitate now, or regret hereafter. I do but change dross for a jewel of inestimable price, and I will value it ever as I do now."
They were both silent for several minutes; and then, as they turned the north western angle of the walls, they saw the sun setting in the splendour of scattered clouds, and Constance and Sir William Anton advancing towards them. Iola perceived that her cousin's step wanted its quiet steadiness; and when her eye fixed on her face, a blush rose in Constance's cheek.
"There is the sun setting and your uncle rising, lady," said Sir William Arden, in a gay voice, pointing with his hand in the direction of the road across the park, upon which several horsemen might be seen advancing--"we shall soon have the light of his countenance, though the star goes down."
"Let us go in," said Iola, in a hurried tone; "perhaps we have already staid out too long; but the evening has been so beautiful."
"And the conversation so sweet," said Arden, almost in a whisper to Constance; "so should close the phrase both with Chartley and with me, if I had aught of the court in my nature. I will study, dear lady--I will study, and rub off the rust which has gathered between my armour and my skin."
"No--Be ever, what you are," answered Constance.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
Another day elapsed, and another. The sunshine mingled with the shade; as is ever the case in human life; but there were no dark clouds. Sometimes, for many hours, Chartley and Iola could obtain not a single moment for private intercourse. At others, a whole sweet hour was won from the great adversary of love, the world. Lord Calverly perceived not, or did not seem to perceive, that anything was changed; and the lady abbess set off to rejoin her nuns, as ignorant of the secrets of Iola's heart as she had come. Thus wore away the second day, till towards nightfall, when the whole party of the castle returned from their evening ride, and entered the great court. The porter did not venture to stop his lord's horse, as he passed the archway; but he followed him into the court, with a quick step, saying aloud--
"Lord Fulmer is returned, my lord, and wishes to speak with your lordship instantly. He is in the little hall."