'Oh, mamma, mamma, mamma! I am so happy!' the girl exclaimed, and, weeping passionately, she threw herself for rest upon Mrs. Scully's arms.
'Yes, my child; you have been very good, you have made me very happy. You'll be a marchioness. Who would have thought I'd have lived to see all this honour when I served in the little shop at Galway!'
At the mention of the shop Violet recovered her composure, and mother and daughter listened to the receding footfalls.
'I wonder if he is happy,' Violet murmured; 'as happy as I am. For I do like him. He is a good sort.'
'Your happiness is a different happiness,' Mrs. Scully answered.
Like a flowering tree, a luxuriant joy bloomed in the Marquis's heart; in its shade and fragrance his thoughts lay supinely; and, a prey to many floating and fanciful imaginings, he walked onwards through the darkness. In the lowering skies he saw the fair face that had led him to the verge on which he now stood.
'Was anybody as happy as he? And what did his happiness mean?' he asked himself.
Shades flitted across yellow window-panes, and he remembered he had received an invitation for this very ball.
Cats slunk through the area railings; policemen moved from their hiding corners; a lover passed on with his dreams.