"Then I shall write to my father to come over. I would not miss having him see my lovely bride, and I intend that the wedding shall come off as soon as the trousseau is ready," declares the happy lover.
Lady Vera does not say him nay. She is very happy in the prospect of a union with her faithful lover. The days glide past like a dream of pleasure, quietly, because as yet she denies herself to callers, but happily, because surrounded by her dearest friends and her adoring lover.
[CHAPTER XLVIII.]
And one day the last sweet rose leaf is added to the brimming cup of Lady Vera's new happiness, which even the thought of Raleigh Gilmore's fell design could not wholly overshadow.
Sir Harry Clive had sent her an urgent request to come into the library to meet a visitor, and only staying a moment to arrange her disordered hair, for she had been in the nursery playing with Lady Nella's children, she obeys him.
Sir Harry takes her hand and draws her forward to the man, neatly clothed in black, who has risen from his chair to meet her.
"I know your face," she cries, instantly. "I have seen you somewhere. It is—oh, can it be Mr. McPherson?"
"It is Joel McPherson, Lady Vera, at your service," he answers, in honest, hearty tones. "I am glad you remembered me, my lady. I knew you again instantly although you look prettier and happier than you did that morning when your father took you away from Glenwood."