Richard moved his frail, fading Mary to the pretty gardener's cottage at Lord St. Ledger's. There she ebbed away, happy, peaceful, with the love and devotion of her husband surrounding her.
The story of his marriage reached the ears of the ladies of the castle, and hardly a day passed without some of them coming to see her, and Lord St. Ledger gave orders that fruit and flowers were to be hers as she craved for them.
Just a month after the marriage her coffin was brought back to her native village and laid in a grave in a sunny part of the yard.
"Make a double grave," said Richard to the sexton. A double grave was made.
When the funeral was over, his old master, the squire, went to him, took his arm, and said, "Oh, Richard, you have had a terrible loss."
"I have had a great gain, sir."
"A gain!"
"Yes, sir. I could never have been happy had she not been mine. But she became mine, and she is mine—for ever."
He returned to his duties.