When it was concluded the two young people went out upon the porch to view the sunset, while Mr. Abbot retired to his room where he began looking over and rearranging the papers in his desk.
There was no need now to send that written history with its request for fatherly care for Virgie, to Lawrence Bancroft. He had not a doubt as to the result of Sir William Heath's wooing. He was sure that Virgie loved him, and he was filled with a blessed content and fervent gratitude that so bright a future was opening before his darling.
She would go to another country where none of the old troubles could touch her, where no one would be able to point the finger of scorn at her and whisper that her name had been branded with dishonor, and where, surrounded by her noble husband's love and care, occupying a high social position with every good thing that wealth could secure, her life would be one long summer of peace and happiness.
Meantime an awkward pause had fallen between Virgie and her lover standing outside upon the porch.
It was broken at last by the baronet with a very trite remark:
"What a warm evening."
"Yes, it has been a very warm day," answered Virgie, feeling very much inclined to laugh, for never before had they been forced to talk of the weather in order to keep up a conversation.
"Let us go to our seat under the old pine tree," said Sir William, and without waiting for her consent, he stepped down to lead the way.
Virgie glanced at him questioningly.
The unusual gravity which she had observed during tea still rested upon his face and vibrated in his tones.