And the last time my dear brother left the house was to give me to his friend.  He was anxious that I should be Clement’s wife before he left me, and there was no fear that we should starve, for, through trustworthy merchants, a small amount of the Darpent money had been transmitted to him before the State laid hands on his property as that of a fugitive.  He might have bought himself a share in one of the great trading houses, or have—­which tempted him most—­gone out to the plantations in the new countries of Java or America; but Eustace prayed him to pledge himself to nothing until he should hear from Harry Merrycourt, to whom my brother had sent a letter before quitting Paris.

We would have had a quiet wedding, but Eustace was resolved, as he said, that all the world should know that it was not done in a corner, and Madame van Hunker would give the wedding feast, and came to dress me for my bridal.  You know the dress:  the white brocade with hyacinth flowers interwoven in the tissue—­and when she had curled my hair after her fancy, she kissed me and clasped round my neck the pearls of Ribaumont.  I told her I would wear them then to please her and Eustace, and, in truth, I knew in my heart that I was the last true Ribaumont bride that ever would wear them.  We were wedded in the chapel in Madame van Hunker’s house; and the Princess-Royal was there, and the Duke of York, and my Lord and Lady of Newcastle, and I know not who besides—­only remembering that they all knew how to treat Clement as a man of distinction, who had, like them, given up all for conscience sake, and he, in his plain lawyer’s suit, with his fine, clear-cut face and grave eyes, looked, even in spite of his close-cropped head, as veritable a gentleman as any of them.  The festivities ended the dinner, that being as much as my brother was able for.  We went quietly back to our lodgings in Millicent’s coach, and Eustace went to rest on his bed, till she should have bidden farewell to her guests and could come and sup with us; but he and Clement forbade me to take off my finery, for it tickled their eyes.

And thus, when tidings came to the door that a gentlemen from England desired to see my Lord Walwyn, Harry Merrycourt, after all these years of seeing nothing but sad-coloured Puritan dames, came in upon this magnificent being in silvered brocade.

He said he thought he had stumbled on the Princess-Royal at least, and it was a descent to hear it was only plain Mistress Darpent!  Harry had a good wife of his own by that time, who suited him far better than I should have done.  Indeed, I believe he had only thought of wedding me to relieve my family from me.  And when he saw how unlike M. Darpent was to all he had ever thought or believed of Frenchmen, and heard how well he spoke English, and how he had borne himself at Paris, he quite forgave me, and only thought how he could serve Eustace, the man whom he had always loved beyond all others.