On the day following the departure of two happy couples for the Continent—Mr. and Mrs. Pyne to Italy, Lieut. and Mrs. Stanhope to the Riviera, with intent to meet in Rome at Easter—a quieter and more sedate couple took train at Waterloo for Southampton, bound for the Far West.
Although a Nebraska decree of divorce does not hold good in English law, Lady Brand wished to be married again in the State which sanctioned her earlier folly. Her husband agreed readily. Everybody, including Mr. Traill and Lady Margaret, had arranged to turn up at the north-country mansion in May. Provided there were no hurricanes, Sir Stephen thought his wife's health would benefit by the double sea voyage, and he was personally delighted to see the New World for the first time in her company.
Their steamer sailed from Southampton at 11 A.M. After dinner that night they were abreast of the Gulf Rock, and Brand pointed out to his wife its occulting gleam from afar.
"It makes me feel very humble," she said, after they had watched its radiance darting out over the tumbling seas for a long time in silence.
"Why, sweetheart?" he asked.
"It is so solemn, so intense in its energy, so splendidly devoted to its single purpose."
"Now, it is an odd thing," he replied, as watchful to check her occasional qualms of retrospect as he had been during many a long night to keep that same light at its normal state of clear-eyed brilliance, "but it does not appeal to me in that way. It is winking portentously, as much as to say 'You old humbug, there you are, leaving me after all these years, and running away with your own wife.'"
THE END.
[Transcriber's Note: Hyphen variations left as printed.]