They had reached the great drawing room, where there were windows upon all sides through which one could see the trees and fountains of the park. The sun was setting, and the mirrors reflected its last rays.
“It is getting late,” she whispered. “Shall we go home?”
He bowed low before her, smiling.
“This castle is yours, Madame.”
The vast room echoed with the young wife’s merry laugh.
“Mine!”
He replied gravely:
“Yes, yours. I am the Lord of Burleigh. All that I have is yours, with my heart.”
She turned pale and was obliged to lean against the wall, near the window. The view from it, at that sunset hour, was full of peaceful beauty. Far away, the little white cottage reflected the sunlight.
“Alas!” she murmured softly, as if her happiness was gone.